#one of their reasons is how she’s paired with Alex but like he canonically has the better story when your a man so idk bestie

[iamchickenhearmesquawk]

Saw a few people saying they think Haley seems the most “straight coded” out of all of the bachelorettes which is actually crazy to me.

#do people not know that feminine wlw exist? #Haley is so comphet sapphic to me #like mean lesbian vibes #one of their reasons is how she’s paired with Alex but like he canonically has the better story when your a man so idk bestie #they also said they think abigail is the most queer coded out of the girls and I disagree #but don’t think to hard I’m just biased cause I’m not a fan of Abby #Abby isn’t straight either like obviously none of them are but idk also her canonical pairing is with Sebastian soooo #double standard #please don’t kill me #stardew valley #stardew haley

[mariamakeslemons]

Canon CoD Characters as 70s Slasher Characters

Just like with the TF141, I'm going to be putting these characters into the stereotypes that I think they'd be in a 70s slasher. Once again, none of them can be the killer.

I've also done this post with Non-Canon CoD characters as well!

Alex would be a background character. Perhaps he has a few interactions with the final girl, perhaps he's just a background character. Either way, he's not super fleshed out in the slasher, which makes him either fodder or someone who gets away. He'd definitely be one of the characters that fans of the movie would beg to know more about, probably has a great fight before dying, or he helps others escape from the killer. If he's used to pad the body count, he's going down kicking ass.

Farah is either the smart girl stereotype or the legend person. She'd realize pretty damn quickly that she's in a horror movie and then it would depend on her role. As the smart girl, she'd be working with the final girl to make traps for defense against the killer. However, if she's just there to tell the legend of the killer, she's dipping so fast. Listen, if it was a human, she'd be in your corner. But the killer you're facing with her as Ms. Exposition is supernatural. She would, rightfully, not fuck with that. Probably helps Alex evacuate people still and tells the final girl how to kill the killer if such information is available. If she does face the killer, she's going down swinging dammit!

Kate is Ms. Exposition. If the killer has any information on them, she'll get it to the final girl. One of the characters that immediately realizes that she's in a horror movie. Is probably not with the rest of the cast physically, so she's the most likely to survive (outside of one person, but we'll get to them). Not quite team mom, but gets protective of the final girl should she help out. If she does end up facing the killer, you can bet that she's going down fighting.

Alejandro is the lovable jock. He forms the classic pair of nerdy-and-jock-friends with Rudy (who we will get to next). He's smarter than the usual archetype, but he's self deprecating, insisting he's only good for his muscles. However, due to being this archetype, he also suffers from the Worf effect, usually being one of the first killed to show how strong the killer is. He does go down swinging, though, sometimes leaving a wound that the final girl can use to defeat the killer.

Rudy is the cute nerd, as the other half of the nerd-and-jock-friends with Alejandro. He helps the survivors realize they're in a horror movie, usually upon finding Alejandro's corpse. He'll come up with traps and ways to corner the killer, but he's more likely to go straight after the killer for revenge. He's definitely going down with a fight, if he doesn't stay with the final girl. Usually dedicates the kill in honor of their fallen friends.

Valeria is the drug dealer. Because it 's a 70s slasher, with the Hays Code still being a heavy guideline for movies, she's going to die because of moral reasons. There might be implications that she crosses the border as well, because we all know those old slasher movies are just a look at cis, white, conservative men's fear. Because of both of these reasons, despite how badass she is in CoD, she'd be killed without a fight, in a painfully drawn out way. (If it was a newer slasher, she'd probably escape, honestly.)

Graves is the Asshole© of the group. He drinks and smokes, similar to Soap, but he also refuses to take no for an answer unless someone else forces him to accept it. When the kills start piling up, he tries to leave, not in the terror way but like 'fuck y'all, I ain't dying for dick'. This does not save him as he's guaranteed to die now, once again because 70s slashers tend to be morality tales. Abandoning people is a no-go, and Graves dies for his crime of betrayal, usually by surprise, meaning no fighting back.

Makarov is the "human" antagonist. He's not the killer, but he may have helped make the killer into, well, the killer. Or he's the asshole who wants to get something from the group. Because of this, however, he'll usually disappear in the 2nd half of the movie. Is he dead, did he escape scot-free? Who knows, not the audience. He can be interchangeable with Graves' character, as to not make too many unlikable characters on screen. Once again, the morality of 70s slashers makes him die, if he dies, anticlimactically.

Nikolai is the driver of the vehicle that drops off the final girl. You remember me mentioning someone surviving with Kate? Yeah, this is him. He drops off his passenger and fucks right off. He might not even know that a killer is loose, but he's not staying. He's got other shit to do. If he does get caught by the killer, he's fighting, with a high chance at taking the killer down with him.

#Call of Duty #my work #alex keller #farah karim #kate laswell #alejandro vargas #rudolfo parra #valeria garza #philip graves #vladimir makarov #Nikolai CoD

[fazedlight]

mel!!! your cat grant & max lord interlude ficlet got me to thinking - i was wondering if you had any thoughts on if they had kept maxwell lord in national city when lena luthor had arrived, what would that look like if he were a ‘tech industry’ foil instead of/in addition to morgan edge?

Oohhh yes!!! (Ficlet for reference.)

I honestly really liked Maxwell Lord’s character on the show. I was not digging the Max/Alex romance that seemed to be brewing (I just don’t think it’s possible for Alex to develop interest in someone with such clear disregard for her sister), but I really liked him being the tech foil. I think he makes a far better one than Morgan Edge, who was just a boring old out-for-himself psychopath.

Maxwell Lord, on the other hand, did feel driven by a mission. He had a deep distrust of the government due to his parents’ deaths, and I do genuinely believe that he wanted to do good in the world. But unlike Kara, he is much more cynical and practical in his approach. And much more willing to allow for collateral damage.

It kind of reminds me of the difference between Lex and Lillian. Lex is just power tripping (Jon Cryer absolutely kills it in this role, otherwise I’m not sure I’d like Lex nearly as much as I do). But Lillian is the much more interesting Luthor villain, because she genuinely thinks she’s doing good for the world - her view of the “world” is just very narrow, because it only focuses on humans, and she’s perfectly fine being a bigot. If we take it a step further with Lena’s villain era, she really served as an anti-villain - Lena’s cause was fundamentally good, but her methods were deeply misguided.

I’m trying to imagine how Max and Lena would’ve gotten along. I think, like with the Daxamite invasion where Lena and Lillian kind of team up, we could see reluctant teamups between this pair as well. But unlike Lillian, Max doesn’t really have a reason to hide the truth of Kara’s identity from Lena. Would she have figured it out sooner? Would he specifically have left clues that led Lena there?

He might even have walked in assuming that Lena knew, before realizing that she really didn’t. And from there, maybe he would’ve driven a very different type of wedge, maybe try to sow distrust. Canonically he starts out as a powerful business man, and eventually becomes involved in Cadmus...

Hear me out, but it might’ve been interesting to watch Maxwell Lord sliding into darker territories (working with Lillian, Cadmus, etc) and trying to take Lena with him. We know he’s attracted to powerful women (like Cat), and he’s smart enough that Lena might’ve found him initially interesting (like, let’s be real, this would’ve been a far more interesting romance arc than Lena/James… though in this case, I’m imagining more of an antagonistic FWB where Lena starts to see some of his points).

Lena would never join Cadmus, she’s not anti-alien. (Max might not be overtly anti-alien, but it's not important enough for him to avoid either.) But she has blind spots that it takes time for her to see (eg the alien detector), and maybe she feels more and more sympathetic to Max’s positions over time.

That puts Kara - who is more than a little in love with her best friend - in the tough spot of knowing that Max joined Cadmus, knowing he’s basically trying to seduce Lena into darkness (Kara is definitely not jealous about his other successful seduction nope nope nope it has nothing to do with that!!), and while she knows Lena would never set out to cause harm... she’s falling into a trap.

So what does Kara do? She tells Lena she’s Supergirl, and Lena now knows that both her best friend and her fuck-buddy-sometimes-romance have been lying to her all along.

I’m not imagining a villain era for Lena here, because I still think that was mostly prompted by Lena’s murder of Lex (you can see a clear delimination in my fics of when she is vs. isn’t angry about the secret, and when her anger is vs. isn’t leading to a villain era).

But she might try to go it alone, close up again and avoid people. She’d dive deep into her lab work, trying to cure cancer or something, improve humanity without interacting with anyone. The lab is safe. Science doesn’t betray you. Statistics don’t lie to you. (Statistics do lie, but she has character flaws.)

She’s content to live her life as a science-inventor-hermit…

Until Kara shows up bloodied at her door, and says “I need your help”.

#I didn't mean to get all “IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-” but I did whoops sorry #supercorp #asks #anonymous

[gali-in-distress]

My love, the reason I survive (Trust we'll be together soon)

Pairing: Alex Forbes/Nigel Colbie

Additional tags: Canon divergence/Alternative Universe, Nigel Lives, Disabled Character, Disabled Nigel, Implied/Referenced Suicide Attempt, Mentioned Mental Institutions, Men Crying, Happy Ending

Read on AO3

Nigel watched the trees disappear one after the other through the car window, every building along the road looking smaller and smaller until they were completely out of sight. His hands fidgeted with the folded cane on his lap, his body trembling with anxiety and anticipation. He had waited so long for this day. Nearly fifteen years, and he'd counted the days and every minute in them. But it would all be worth the wait, he would soon be rewarded for his patience and his commitment.

He would finally see Alex.

Not behind a small window on a door or on a screen but in person, with no obstacles between them. He would hear his voice, not muffled by the bulletproof glass or contaminated by the noise of an old phone no one had bothered to clean in years.

He couldn't wait to be face to face, real and free to do as they pleased.

"Are you sure about this, Mr. Colbie?" His chauffeur, Jacqueline, interrupted his thoughts, wiping away the smile that had started to form on his lips.

He turned to look at her with a raised brow and she shook her head nervously, looking from him to the road in a quick movement.

"I don't mean to offend, I know that you've been planning for this day for a long time but-"

"But?" 

"But sir, I just want you to know that you can change your mind."

Nigel had kept Jaqueline around for a number of reasons, many of which didn't particularly differentiate her from any other person that he could have hired to drive him around from one place to another. But there was one thing that he found convenient about her, and that was how normal she seemed. Dark hair, always pulled back in a tight ponytail, brown eyes, simple, common features on a face that no one would remember seeing if they hadn't been paying close attention. Beside him, she was just about the perfect amount of normal to make his presence less entertaining for others.

It did, however, extend to her very simple personality, which led to some contradictions in her opinions on him that she usually kept to herself. With some exceptions.

"You don't need to worry about that, Jaqueline. Like you said, I've been planning for this day for a long time," Nigel assured her.

"Alright, Mr. Colbie, if you say so."

He frowned. The sole mention of his last name for a second time in the conversation was almost enough to dampen his mood. Oh, how he hated being called that. The same thing people had called his father, now long buried underground and most definitely rotting in hell, like he deserved.

His hands tightened on the cane, knuckles turning white on his right, and his left hand shaking with the effort. He cast his eyes outside once more, his mind searching for comfort in the morning sky. It would all soon not matter, he would have everything he needed.

"Tell me what worries you, and I will ease your mind if I can," he encouraged her, starting to massage the tight joints of his left hand.

She cleared her throat and out of the corner of his eye he saw her let go of the wheel with one hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

"Well, it's just that, I know it's none of my business, but-" He turned to look at her and she was shaking her head without taking her eyes off the road. He wasn't entirely sure if it was to avoid looking at him or just her being her usual disciplined self. "From what I've heard, this man has hurt you so much."

Possibly without intending to, she turned to look at him, worry written on her face as her eyes fell on the scars of his right cheek before quickly looking away and blushing slightly.

"I don't understand why you would want him back in your life."

Nigel couldn't help but smile at that.

So many people in his life had been the cause of his pain and suffering, so many of them had been the ones that were supposed to protect and love him and had done anything but. Alex was certainly not one of them.

"You don't have to understand," he replied softly. "Everything he's ever done has been for a reason."

It was a difficult concept to understand for most, how everything had been part of a plan, the fact that every sacrifice had been necessary in their journey. How even when they had been apart for so long, Nigel didn't need to welcome Alex back into his life, for he had never been away to begin with. Of course, he knew things that everyone else ignored, not only about the secrets that he'd uncovered, but about what truly happened that fateful night and the days prior to it.

Lying had also been a necessity. Only he and Alex could understand, and therefore they had shaped their story to ensure that they would eventually be granted their freedom.

It had taken a lot of convincing. First a forensic psychologist, then many more being consulted on their case, and lastly a long list of psychiatrists they both had to talk to, without being able to directly get their story straight. They hadn't been allowed to speak to each other and even if they had been, Nigel spent the first month recovering from an injury that had prevented him from eating, and talking was completely out of the question. Their lawyers had played an important role in their communication and had been handsomely rewarded for that. 

"And I am not free of sins, you are well aware of that," Nigel reminded her.

Jaqueline murmured something he couldn't properly hear.

"Would you please say that again?" he asked her, completely aware that she hadn't meant for him to hear it. "You know that my right ear doesn't work well."

Nigel hated pity, especially when it was directed at him. But it did come in handy from time to time.

"I said," she began, "that he's been locked away for a long time, sir. That has to mean something."

"I was too, for a time."

"You were in a mental institution," she argued.

Nigel didn't need the reminder, it had been a painful stay from which he hadn't been released until his 21st birthday and then only because he had fought. With no legal guardians other than the social worker he had been assigned to and a frozen bank account waiting for his coming of age, Nigel had been almost completely defenseless till then. It had been worth it, he told himself. Had he not been deemed mentally ill, he would have lost much more for a lot longer. 

"I was in a madhouse, yes," he agreed, and Jaqueline flinched. "And so is Alex."

"But he was in jail," she argued once again, her grip on the wheel tightening.

"An unfortunate mistake that was corrected years ago."

She huffed at that.

"I am not that different from him, Jaqueline. You will see that soon."

They had almost reached their destination and with each meter they got closer his chest felt lighter, his jaw unclenched a bit more, releasing the tension he'd been holding for so many years now that he had forgotten how to exist in any other way.

I'm almost there, my better half. Just you wait.

"Are you trying to make me afraid of you, sir?" she joked, with incredulity in her voice.

Nigel laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it." Their eyes met for a second and he smiled at her. "What reason could you have to fear me?"

She visibly swallowed, staring back at him, before silently looking ahead to take a turn to the left.

We are getting closer, my love. Can you feel me?

"No, but he is coming to live with me and I would hate for your concerns to prevent you from properly fulfilling your duty."

"I would never, sir," she hurried to reassure him.

"Then you shouldn't be afraid, as long as you stay on his good side." He reached to touch her shoulder with his good hand. "Just like you've done with me." The smile he gave her was meant to calm her, but the way she looked at him, with tense lines on her face and eyes blinking faster than usual, he guessed it had the opposite effect.

Either way, she pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the asylum and got out of the car while he waited for her to open his door and assist him. It had been a struggle at first for him, getting used to all the touching and being moved around when he couldn't do it himself. It had taken an insane amount of painkillers and neverending hours of physical therapy to return him to a functional human being again. He'd been so used to his solitude that the constant presence of others in his space had been pure agony. But unlike those first years, now he had the power to choose the people that were allowed to touch him and when and where they were allowed to touch him.

Jaqueline extended her arm, offering it to him for support to stand up. He hardly needed it these days, but after sitting in the car for more than an hour it was more than welcomed. The cane unfolded in his right hand and he let go of her to use it instead.

"Do we need to ask someone to call for him?" she asked, walking beside him into the private reception. They had circled to the back of the building to avoid seeing as many people as possible.

"No, he will come down soon."

The wait was almost unbearable, as short as it was. His heart was beating faster and faster inside his chest with anticipation, or was it anxiety?

Last time they had been together and free, Nigel had been bleeding on the wet and dirty ground next to the train tracks. He would never forget the cold followed by the paralyzed numbness on the left side of his body. The pain of the bullet wound wasn't as bad as seeing the horror on Alex's face.

"Oh my god," Alex had murmured after what felt like hours just staring down at him, but in reality it had been so soon that Nigel could still hear the echo of the bullet coming out of the barrel. Or perhaps it had been shrapnel that was lodged in his skull near the back of his ear.

"Fuck! Fuck, Nigel what the hell!" Alex, poor Alex, had yelled, kneeling down in front of him. His eyes were wide and wild, and so, so green. Nigel couldn't look away.

He was shaking when he lifted Nigel in his arms and cradled him against his chest.

He kept asking, "What have you done?" over and over again while tears streamed down his face, mixing with the rain and falling over Nigel's face.

"I don't know," he wanted to say. "I'm sorry," he wanted to add. But his mind was getting dizzy and he had to close his eyes for a moment.

He heard Alex scream for help and then nothing.

That was the last time. After that it had been an entire, painful year with no direct contact. Then phone calls, and then finally he was able to visit. He'd been a free man for years now, he wasn't even required to see a psychologist every couple of months anymore. He'd sold his parents house and bought a new one far, far away from Leeds in a place where they could be alone and walk in the sun.

Dr. Forbes had been so angry that Alex didn’t want to go back to him after his release. But there was nothing he could do to stop him. Alex was going to be his own person and he was finally free to go where he was always meant to be. Right alongside Nigel.

The clock on the reception wall marked 15 minutes to 11 when Alex appeared down the hallway, wearing the pair of washed out jeans and the green t-shirt that Nigel had sent him earlier that week. He had not been allowed visitors, other than his blood family, but Nigel had been able to send him a couple of things here and there, to keep them both sane. And wasn't that ironic. 

A nurse was escorting him but he was carrying his own belongings in a small backpack.

Nigel stood up faster than he usually would, ignoring the dull ache in his left leg, and his cane fell to the floor with a clank. The sound made Alex look up and Nigel's heart did a somersault when their eyes locked. A few steps from him and a couple more agile ones from Alex and they were meeting halfway, their bodies colliding together in a tight embrace.

Alex's arms surrounded him and he closed his eyes tightly against his neck, breathing in his scent, still not fully believing what was happening. Everything around them faded away and for a moment it was only the two of them in the world.

Nigel pulled away to get a proper look at Alex and noticed that his eyes were gleaming with tears. He could feel his own face wet with the ones that had spilled.

"You're here," Alex said hoarsely, like he hadn't spoken in days, raw with emotion.

"I am," he confirmed with a shaky smile. 

Alex was a sight for sore eyes. He was taller, his hair shorter but still somehow a mess. He was thin like he'd always been, but with a roughness to his edges that he hadn't had before. The pictures and the pixelated image he'd seen through video calls could never compare to the actual him, to being right in front of Alex and being able to see him.

"For a moment I thought that it had all been a dream and you weren't actually coming for me," he said with a laugh, and there was a vulnerability in his words that could not be hidden behind the facade of a joke.

Nigel reached for his hands and placed them on his face. Alex's fingers traced over the soft skin of his left cheek and the scarred tissue he knew was on his right one.

"Well, I have," he promised. "We're going home, Alex."

"Home," Alex mouthed with a smile and he leaned down to kiss him.

With Alex's soft, warm lips against his, he realized that they hadn't done this before. It was a painful revelation that caused something inside him to both wither and bloom at the same time. He'd been planning their life together for so long, so sure of their love and their connection that he'd forgotten the most simple things that came from being in a relationship with someone. He'd dreamed of touching Alex, of kissing him like he was at the moment, so many times that he'd forgotten that they hadn't actually done this before. But the real thing was better than anything his imagination could have come up with.

They parted, both smiling like fools, tears finally falling from Alex's eyes.

"Well, let's go now, I already signed everything they needed. I don't want to be here for a minute longer," he said, wiping his face and clearing his throat.

Nigel nodded. He turned around to face a startled Jaqueline who offered him his cane. 

"Alex, this is Jaqueline, my chauffeur," he said, taking the offered aid from her. "Jaqueline, this is Alex."

"A pleasure to meet you, sir." She shook his hand firmly.

"The pleasure is all mine." He didn't know how right he was. "Jaqueline, huh?" Alex grinned at Nigel with a raised brow. "Do you call her Jaq?"

The question startled a laugh out of him and left the poor woman looking quite confused. He folded the cane, choosing to lean his weight against Alex instead, starting to walk out of the building and towards the car.

"I have missed you so much," he couldn't help confessing in a soft tone. He'd said as much, in many letters and phone calls, where he couldn't stop lamenting their time apart and regretting not being able to convince the court to release Alex sooner. 

"I know, I've missed you too." The answer warmed his heart. He could breathe again, with Alex's arm over his shoulders, walking together on a sunny July morning.

He chose to sit in the back of the car with Alex, although he usually preferred to be in the passenger seat because it made him feel more in control. If it was up to him, they would not be parted unless it was strictly necessary.

"I can't wait to show you what I've been doing. You'll be pleased," he said eagerly, like a child wanting their parents to see their new drawing.

"I'm sure I will."

Jacqueline started the engine and they headed home.

#like minds #like minds 2006 #like minds fic #murderous intent 2006 #murderous intent #murderous intent movie #nigel colbie #alex forbes #alex forbes x nigel colbie #my fics #my love the reason I survive #like minds alternative ending #like minds but nigel lives #gali in distress

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

hi bestie! I don't even go here so idk if this happens in canon, but for the julie and the phantoms fanfic prompts, it would be cool to see trevor and the ghosts hang out. what sort of inside jokes do they share that julie is totally oblivious to?

idk if this even makes sense but just thought i'd share. good luck w your goal!! 💕

God, you're the best. You don't even go here! (you should go here, though, seriously, join me in hell). Thanks so much for this prompt, my friend, I hope you (and the people who go here) enjoy! :D

Send me prompts!

Once the dam has been broken, the awkward pleasantries squared away, and the metaphorical elephants in Julie’s very real dining room slaughtered and stuffed, it becomes entirely too easy to see where Trevor Wilson once fit into Sunset Curve.

It’s not the same, obviously. He is now a forty-two-year-old man joshing around with his high school buddies who are both seventeen and dead. The movements they would have made to toss an arm around Bobby’s shoulder or drag him into a hug go aborted and unfinished now that he’s taller and broader than he used to be. The looks they give him— of exasperation at themselves, each other, or the world at large— go unshared, or met with wide-eyed blankness, because where they’ve had practice exchanging conspiratorial looks with Bobby in only the last year or so, Trevor hasn’t exchanged any with them in two and a half decades.

It’s obvious to Julie— to anyone who might have the misfortune of watching Trevor, Luke, Alex, and Reggie attempt to have a conversation over Julie’s dad’s dairy-free lasagna— where the cracks still lie, where twenty-five years and a whole lot of hurt have taken part of who they were as a group and thrown it away.

But Julie can see, more subtle though it might be, where the pieces fit together still, too. She can see how they used to be friends.

“So!” Luke says partway through dinner, leg visibly bouncing beneath the table. “Trevor.”

He gives him this look— quintessential Luke— like he needs Trevor to know he’s using his name as an insult, but instead of shying away, Trevor meets it head-on with a piercing look of his own— flat, unimpressed, one eyebrow raised just enough to draw attention.

It must be a quintessential Bobby look, because all three ghosts’ jaws drop, and Luke mutters something half-intelligible about forgetting what he was gonna say.

Later, Julie’s dad asks who wants dessert, and Alex deadpans, “Don’t let Bobby have any. Reggie’s only got one pair of pants.”

Dad goes still, and Julie watches Trevor with the same hesitation. He’s touchy around food as it is— for obvious reasons, though Julie still finds it a little funny that the boys who actually died from bad food have never once appeared to share the same reservations— and it must be weird to hear the ghosts of his bandmates call him by his old name.

But instead of getting upset, Trevor snorts and puts a hand over his face, shoulders shaking. Alex’s subtle smile turns a little more self-satisfied as Reggie enthusiastically launches into a story about his Bar Mitzvah suit and a poorly-placed tray of cream puffs.

When they’re cleaning up from dinner, Dad and Trevor end up at the sink together, elbow to elbow as Dad washes dishes and Trevor dries. Julie pauses in wiping down the table to watch them over the kitchen island for a moment. Dad says something low and Trevor laughs, leaning into his side and back again. They look happy.

“I hear wedding bells,” Reggie teases, appearing next to her.

After all this time, hse doesn’t jump. She could feel him coming even before he poofed. Still, she says, “I thought you guys were cleaning up the studio.”

“We are,” Reggie says. “Well, Luke and Alex are. I’m apparently ‘too much of a distraction’ and ‘too likely to break things’ so they told me to see if I could help in here.”

Julie laughs softly, reaching up to ruffle Reggie’s hair. “Well, I appreciate the offer, but I think we’ve got it handled.” She nods toward the kitchen, and only then fully registers what Reggie said when he came in. “Wait, did you say wedding bells?”

Reggie grins. “Oh, yeah. It might have been twenty-five years, Julie, but I still know Bobby. And that—” He points just as Trevor snaps a dishtowel at her dad’s butt— “is Bobby with a crush.”

“Oh my god,” Julie whispers. She turns around. She doesn’t want to see that. She doesn’t even want to think about it.

God, but the way Reggie just knew. It’s not just a best friend thing— Julie doesn’t think she’d be able to pick up on flirty Flynn that quickly, not if they hadn’t seen each other in a while.

It’s like Sunset Curve speaks its own language, one of looks and inside jokes and old stories and knowing each other more deeply than they know themselves. Julie doesn’t think she could learn it all if she tried.

But she thinks she’d like to.

--

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard @jatpfs 

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #fanfiction #julie molina #trevor wilson #reggie peters #alex mercer #luke patterson #ray molina #rayvor

[abybweisse]

Hello! I would love to hear your take on a theory I’ve heard, maybe you’ve already done something about it but —

The theory that the phantomhives are actually of Irish/Scottish/Celtic decent and that’s part of the reason Victoria (supposedly) wiped them out. Also kind of explains the “Windsor incident” and the “sour faces” of relatives at the mention of the twins names (I realize Ciel is French—I believe? But still!)

I just wanna sing ancient Celtic tunes to OCiel 😭 hits home for me because my lineage is extremely Irish and German, and I know how horribly they treated anyone Irish or Scottish at that time, even in America. So sad to think this might be the case, albeit with a supernatural twist

Celtic roots?

There has been discussion of that possibility within the fandom, and I've had a few posts and reblogs that talk about it.

For one thing, some in the fandom think our earl (who only pretends to be Ciel) might have named Finny after himself. A specific book has been shown on two separate occasions in the manga: Fenian Cycle: Celtic Mythology.

In ch100, it's shown several times, as our earl explains to Finny why he's chosen that name for him.

And it's shown again on the cover of ch132.

Now, our earl selects the name for Finny because of his blond hair and his strength. And years later, when our earl joins the circus, he calls himself Finnian. Some people think this is a clue that it's his real given name, and perhaps he has never liked it because it doesn't fit: he doesn't have blond hair, and he's not all that physically fast, strong, or healthy. Canonically, Rachel is the one to name the boys, and I personally cannot see her choosing a name like that for our earl. He didn't show signs of asthma until he was 5 or so, but he obviously doesn't have blond hair, and I expect Rachel to choose a more fitting name for him. Preferably one that works well with "Ciel" (like Claus and Lucas, mirror twin brothers in Mother3, having anagram names). That's one of the reasons why I like the name Elic. (I also like that it means "protection", much like Alex.) However, the idea that our earl is really Finnian (or some spelling variant) persists within the fandom.

I think it's more likely that our earl just fondly remembers Vincent reading the book to him, but it's interesting that the book is shown again on a cover page, with Vincent reading to the boys, and the tag line is "Gazing at the promised future". The chapter includes Vincent showing the boys around the estate and their earldom, but that cover also happens to show the boys "gazing" at the book. This could be a hint that the family is indeed of Celtic origins, or at least partly, despite the fact the image looks more like "gazing at the fabled past".

Then Yana-san revealed the cover art for Artworks 3, and wow. That's a lot of tartans and thistles. She mixes so many different tartan patterns that we cannot really say the family must be from one particular clan or another. But it's really interesting for her to choose all these tartans and pair them with a bunch of thistle, Scotland's national flower. There are even thistles on his boots.

Here and here are a couple old posts about it, including the symbolic meaning of thistles (includes some Japanese flower language meanings, too). Notice thistles are often associated with "protection". (Makes me like the name Elic even more.)

If the twins have some Celtic roots, it might not actually be on the Phantomhive side so much as Rachel's side. Her sister and father have that red hair, after all, and so-called "Gingers" have suffered discrimination for a very long time, particularly in England. Vincent might have wanted to teach his boys to appreciate and take pride in their partly Celtic heritage.

If Rachel has a strong Celtic background, then Vincent's choice to marry her might have ruffled some feathers. Perhaps family and people in the peerage didn't think it was a good idea; maybe this made Queen Victoria angry. Keeping all this in mind (and making a point of it), the decidedly strong-willed Rachel might have selected names that reflect each side of the family. Something French for the firstborn... and something Celtic for the unexpected twin? (Idk exactly where Elic comes from, but it looks/sounds Celtic, doesn't it? Oh, hey. Look. CELTIC. 😆)

Every time I look up "Elic name meaning" online, I get different results for both the meaning and origin, but when I looked a moment ago, this was from one of the top websites (Names.com):

Another website says it's Greek in origin and means "defender of mankind", a variation of Alec. Older website entries used to give a similar meaning (protection/protector of man) but claim it's Hungarian or something. So, nothing conclusive, of course, but gosh I hope our earl ends up being Elic. I really do. It's one of the major Mother3 predictions, so of course I'm fond of it. 😅

Speaking of lineage, mine is English, German, Irish, Scottish, French, and Dutch. My first name, Arran, is after the Isle of Arran (Scottish). My last name, Walker, is supposedly from the MacGregor clan, while my Allison ancestors (married into the Walkers about six generations ago) came from the MacAlister clan, straight from Somerled himself! Then again, being a descendent of Somerled is somewhat common. Roughly 500,000 people today are. Only Genghis Khan is documented as having more -- about 16 million. Big oof 😅.

BONUS:

Another person to mix with the Phantomhives could prove to be of Celtic decent.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #celtic #phantomhive family #rachel phantomhive #vincent phantomhive #our earl #real ciel #earl phantomhive #ciel phantomhive #real name #finny #finnian #elic #name meanings #mother3 predictions #mother3 #fenian cycle #celtic mythology #artworks 3 #tartan #thistle #name origins #lineage #tehgreatboo #asks #i answer #answered asks #may 20 2022 #long post

[tuesdayscanons]

Tuesday's Stardew Valley Canon Pairings Hot Takes

* (This includes the actual married couples and psuedo-couples that are implied to be canon if the player didn't intervene)

I'll start with Maru and Harvey because I've already given my opinion on them, but I'll go into a little more depth. Harvey looks like he's mid 30s or early 40s while Maru is apparently young enough for Demetrius to get protective of her when the player is basically just getting friendly at that point. Is Harvey different because he's a doctor? I feel like Demetrius would notice how unprofessional it is for an employer to date an employee, but what do I know? This isn't Maru's fault, though the vague information from canon makes me uneasy.

Speaking of Demetrius, I want to say that Robin and Demetrius are the best couple in the game. I love the way they dance together at the saloon on Fridays, you can tell they're still very much in love. They have disagreements, but they ultimately care about each other.

Sebastian and Abigail feels kinda one-sided? Like it's implied Seb has a crush on Abi, but he doesn't consider her a friend even though she comes to visit him. It's always "Sam is the only friend I have" or something along those lines. Not that I really ship Seb with Sam (Sam feels too immature to be in a relationship rn) but I feel like Seb and Abi are just paired together because they're both alt.

Sam and Penny just feels chaotic on all ends. Sam can't even have the player over at night without panicking about his Mommy—does Penny really need that energy in her life? She's already kinda caring for the only two children in the valley, she doesn't need to have a third child on her hands. This feels like the couple that used to be high school sweethearts only to grow to resent each other as time passes on.

Jodi and Kent is hard for me to read into fairly. I mean, Kent isn't even there for the first year and when he does come home, he seems emotionally detached to everything. I don't remember a time where Kent really talks about his role as a father or husband. Not Kent's fault, he literally has PTSD, it's just that Kent and Jodi don't really feel happy together.

Leah and Elliott, on the other hand, just make sense with each other. They look like they were literally made for one another. Part of me feels bad whenever I try to split them up because I don't think I could make them as happy as they make each other.

Alex and Haley bring out the worst in each other. There's a reason they don't talk to each other as much once they start their character development. Alex likes Haley because she's pretty, Haley likes Alex because he's handsome. Nothing more to say.

Evelyn and George are sweet. It can lean a little into "boomer wife humor" territory at times, but some of it makes sense if you consider that George has internalized ableism and he doesn't like having lack of agency (I mean, would you want to be dragged into the freezing snow against your will in a metal wheelchair, regardless of whether it was the festival you met your spouse at?). Evelyn cares about George a lot though and it's sweet how she tries to get him to see people still care about him. I feel like she's why George has the motivation to wake up each morning (that, and taking care of his grandson). I don't want to make this too long, but they're a sweet elderly couple and I like their dynamic.

Pierre and Caroline are meh. Part of that is because I see Pierre as "smug seed dispenser" and Caroline as "the woman who is probably into essential oils and is anti-vax" erm, "the tea lady who doesn't have much of an identity outside her family and her tea room". Other people have made better observe about them, though I don't know if they really love each other. Doesn't really help that Pierre is usually selling stuff during festivals instead of spending time with his family.

Emily and Clint is a HUGE "hell no" for me. Clint has incel vibes and it's confirmed when he completely ghosts her after she gets into a relationship...and Emily still wanted to be his friend! Clint shouldn't even be getting mad when he can't even talk to Emily without the player threatening to never upgrade their tools again.

Emily and Shane only really exists as a pairing because the two of them weren't designed to be suitors at first, but I like them a lot more than Clint and Emily. Shane is always around the bar, so they'd interact quite a bit. They both care about animals deeply (look at me and tell me Emily wouldn't be thrilled about the Blu chickens!). I can see them working as a couple.

Not going to lie, I nearly forgot about Lewis and Marnie. They're the tabloid gossip couple and no one would be thinking that if Lewis wasn't too pathetic to be open about his relationship with Marnie. You've been misusing the budget to make a golden statue of yourself, Lewis, dating Marnie is the least of your problems. Stop making out in bushes and just be honest ffs. It's not like Lewis has any competition if he's been mayor for over 20 years...

#ooc tag

[imaslutformaybank]

jealousyツ

A/N: hey, hi, hello.  no, this is not a request.  this is actually stolen from my wattpad that i don’t use anymore😩anyways, sorry i haven’t updated in a while, school has been KICKING MY ASS.  hope you enjoy😏

one shot, blurb, or head canon?: one shot

summary: after one hookup between jj and the reader, the dynamic of their friendship is thrown off.  the reasoning for this is discovered one night at a party.

pairing: jj maybank x reader

warnings: cursing, jealousy, possessiveness, dominance, mentions of underage drinking, dirty talk, fingering, oral (fem receiving), slight edging, car sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), and i think that’s all.  let me know if i missed anything🙏😩

wc: 2987

“there he goes, off to flirt with the first girl he sees,” kie said as we sat down on a log.  i followed her gaze to see jj flirting with a tall, blonde girl.  i watched as he threw his head back in a fit of laughter and i couldn’t help but be disgusted.

jj maybank, my best friend since the 3rd grade.  we met one day on a playground and have been inseparable ever since.  something that happened pretty recently though, has changed the way i look at him.

about a month ago, jj and i hooked up.  it was a moment of weakness.  we were both drunk out of our minds and fresh out of broken relationships.  we thought it would be a good idea to just fuck, and never talk about it again.  it has not been as easy as i thought it would be.  

i know i fucked up by having sex with him in the first place, but i thought i would still see him as my best friend.  i don’t.  now i see him as someone i’m in love with, and it’s killing me because i know he doesn’t feel the same.

things haven’t been the same since that night.  i mean, we’re still super close and everything, but there is an unspoken tension in the air.  i’ve tried to bring the topic up to him, but i just get nervous and bail every time.

“hello, are you good?” kie asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“huh?”

“i was asking you if you wanted a refill?” she asked, nodding toward the empty cup in my hand.

“oh, yeah, sure,” i said, handing it to her.  she took it and stood up, making her way over to the keg.  i directed my attention back to jj, and saw that he was now alone.  he was leaning against a large branch, using his arms to prop himself up.  i admired the way his muscles flexed when he shifted his weight.

“y/n?” i heard someone say from behind me.  i turned and faced them to see that it was the sweet guy from my 8th grade science class.

“holy shit, alex?” i asked, standing up.

“yeah! how are you?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around me.  i hugged him back, taking in the pleasant smell of his cologne.  

“i’m good.  how are you?” i asked, pulling away and assimilating his appearance.  puberty hit him like a truck.

“i’m doing pretty good.  it’s great to see you! you look.. different,” he said, his eyes scanning over my body.  i guess you can say that puberty also hit me like a truck.  

“yeah, you too.  what are you doing here? i thought you moved to wilmington?”

“oh, yeah, i did.  i’m just here for the summer,” he answered.  i nodded my head and prayed that he would talk again because i didn’t know what the fuck else to say.

“hey, who’s this?” kie asked, coming up beside me.  thank GOD. 

“oh, hey, thanks,” i said, taking my cup from her, “kiara, this is alex.  alex, this is kiara.”

“nice to meet you,” she smiled as she shook his hand.

“you too,” he replied.

“hey, alex, get over here!” i heard someone yell.

“well, i guess that’s my cue,” he said, “kiara, it was nice to meet you.  y/n, i’ll see you around, yeah?”

“yeah,” i said, nodding my head.

“bye,” kie waved as he walked away.  i took a sip out of my cup and kie turned to face me with a bewildered expression. “he is cute as hell! how come you’ve never told me about him?”

“i don’t know,” i shrugged, “the last time i saw him, he did not look like that.  it’s been like 2, 3 years.”

“shit, girl.  you should get with him,” she said.  i shrugged, knowing damn well that the only person i’m interested in is jj.

“hey, kie! come here!” i heard someone call.

“i’ll see you later, alright?” she said.  i nodded and waved goodbye to her.

a few seconds later, i felt someone tap me on my right shoulder.  i looked to my right to see no one there.  i then rolled my eyes and looked to my left, knowing it was jj.

“’sup?” he asked, taking my drink out of my hand and bringing it up to his mouth.

“hey!” i said, taking it back from him.

“who was that you were talking to?” he asked.

“it’s kind of sad that you don’t know our best friend’s name after all these years,” i answered.  he sucked his teeth.

“not kie, asshat. the guy,” he said.

“alex,” i replied.  he stayed silent for a couple of seconds, waiting for me to elaborate.  i didn’t.

“alex who?”  he asked.  

“he was in my science class a few years ago.”

“do you think he’s hot?” he asked, causing me to furrow my eyebrows.  

“what an odd question,” i said.

“just wonderin’.  he seems like he’s your type,” he said.

“and you care what my type is, why?”

“would you fuck him?” he asked, ignoring my last question.  

“jj-”

“would you?” he asked again.

“i seriously don’t understand why you care-”

“just answer-”

“what if i already did?” i bit back.  i don’t know why i said that.  i guess a tiny part of me wanted to see how he would react.  i came to regret that decision when jj began pulling me by my arm.

“you ass, you made me drop my beer,” i whined as the cup landed in the sand.  he ignored me as he tugged me away from the party.  i trailed behind him until we ended up outside of the twinkie.  he finally let go of my arm.

“jj, what the hell are we doing?”

“get in,” he said as he slid the door open.

“no,” i said, crossed my arms over my chest.

“no?” he repeated.  i shook my head, “why?”

“because you’re not giving me a good reason,” i said.  he raised his eyebrows.

“you need a good reason?” he asked, stepping closer to me.  i nodded my head slowly, losing confidence in my answers as he stared down at me.

“how about this?” he asked lowly as he leaned down, closing the gap between us.  

when his lips touched mine, memories of that night flashed inside of my mind.  i didn’t realized how needy i had been for this kiss until it was happening.  

my back was pressed against the side of the van as jj slipped his knee in between my legs, forcing them apart and causing me to gasp.

“will you get into the van now?” he asked.  i nodded my head yes and basically scrambled into the twinkie, eager for what was coming next.  jj climbed in after me and closed the door behind us.  i grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him toward me, rekindling the kiss.  

his lips were soft, and he tasted of weed, beer, and mint.  this is a combination i would usually be opposed to, but since it’s jj, i don’t care.

he slipped his tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss as he crawled on top of me.  

“you ever think about me?” he mumbled against my lips as his right hand ran up and down my body. “about that night?”

“all the time,” i replied, the words coming out muffled against his lips.  

“remember how good i made you feel?” he asked.  i nodded. “want me to make you feel like that again?”

“please,” i replied, my voice coming out more pathetic than i wanted it to.  he pulled away and sat up, pulling his shirt over his head.  he then beckoned me toward him with two fingers. 

i crawled over to him and settled myself in his lap.  he placed his hands on my hips, guiding them as i began to rock back and forth against his growing dick.  

“fuck,” he breathed out, a sound that made the place between my legs ache.  his hands moved up from my hips to my back, tugging at the edge of my shirt.  i got the hint and pulled it over my head, throwing it somewhere in the van.  he began kissing my neck, sucking and nibbling lightly as he reached behind me to unclip my bra.  he then pulled away for a few seconds, admiring my bare chest.

“so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, “lay down for me.”

i did as told and got off of his lap, laying down on my back and unbuttoning my shorts.  i then lifted up my hips so i could slide them down my legs with minimal effort.  

i let out a gasp when i felt jj’s fingers rubbing against my clothed clit.  when i looked at him, i realized that he was left in only his boxer-briefs.  when the hell did the happen?

“you’re fucking soaked, baby,” his low voice spoke as he looped his fingers around the hem of my underwear, pulling them down my legs.  after throwing them into an unknown corner of the van, he took his middle finger and ran it through my slick folds, sending shivers down my spine. 

“fucking perfect,” he mumbled to himself before pulling his finger away from me and bringing it into his mouth, a sight that was almost enough to make me cum on the spot.

he then began kissing my inner thighs, causing another shiver of anticipation to run down my spine.

“jj, please,” i whined, tugging at his hair.

“please what?” he asked in between kisses, getting closer to my heat with every one.  i huffed and bucked my hips upward, trying to get the friction that i so desperately needed.  finally, jj held my hips down and pressed his tongue against my clit.  a sigh of content left my lips as he began sucking on my sensitive bundle of nerves.

as the time went on, i could feel myself getting closer and closer to my orgasm. my legs began to shake slightly and i bit my lip to prevent from being too loud.

“fuck, that feels so good,” i whimpered out, “i’m close jj.” just as i was about to fall over the edge and cum, he pulled away.

“what the fuck?” i asked, sitting up.  i reached down to play with my clit, desperate for a release, but he slapped my hand away.

“what are you doing?” 

“chill out,” he said, leaning in to kiss me again.  although i was skeptical of his actions, i kissed back.  all of a sudden, i felt jj’s hand graze against my clit again, causing me to moan into his mouth.  he pushed two of his fingers into me and my hips started rocking against his hand involuntarily, causing him to smirk into the kiss.

before i knew it, i could feel my climax building up again.  i whimpered against his lips again, grinding my wet cunt against his hand.

“are you close?” he asked.  i nodded my head yes and he pulled his fingers out of me.  i pushed him back with a scowl on my face.

“what the hell are you doing? you’re pissing me off,” i said.  he suddenly grabbed my face, squishing my cheeks together.

“if you don’t shut the hell up, i’m not gonna let you cum at all tonight,” he said, “got it?”

i huffed and nodded my head yes.  jj let go of my face and i ran my hand through my hair.  jj took his briefs off, letting his length spring free and hit his lower stomach.  fuck.  i forgot how big he is.

“lay down,” he ordered.  i did as told and laid on my back while he got himself situated on top of me.

“you ready?” he asked as he lined his cock up with my aching pussy.  i nodded my head yes, eager to have him fill me up.  he leaned down to kiss me when i finally felt his dick slip inside of me.  i let out a breathy moan against his lips as i felt him pull out, then push back into me.

“fuck, i missed this,” he groaned as he sped up his actions.

he began fucking into me at an ungodly speed and i became a moaning mess underneath him.  low grunts escaped his mouth as he snapped his hips into mine at an alarmingly fast rate.

“fuck!” i moaned out when i felt his dick rub against my g-spot. “harder!”

he did as told and began thrusting into me harder than he was before.  my legs began to shake as he hit my sweet spot over and over again.

“did alex fuck you this good?” he breathed out, “was he as good as me?”

“fuck!” i moaned, scratching at his back. “no, no one’s as good as you.”

multiple moans, groans, and profanities flew out of both of our mouths as we found ourselves approaching our highs.

“jj, i’m so fucking close,” i whimpered, “if you stop i’m gonna fucking kill you.”

much to my content, he reached down and began rubbing my clit in quick circles.

“i’m not gonna stop.  cum for me,” he said.  as if on cue, i finally felt my orgasm wash over me.  i felt my pussy pulsating around his dick as i came harder than i ever have before.  he continued fucking into me, helping me ride out my high and trying to arrive at his own.  

soon, his thrusts became sloppy and broken moans spilled out of his mouth as he came inside of me.  he then stilled himself, trying to catch his breath as he came down from his high.  i wiped the back of my hand against my sweat-coated forehead as he pulled out and flopped down next to me.  

“that was fucking amazing,” i said as i stared at the roof of the van.  

“better than alex?” he asked, a smug tone clinging to his voice.  i rolled my eyes and sat up, searching for my clothes.

“i never fucked him,” i said, slipping into my underwear.  

“you didn’t?” he asked.  i shook my head no as i put my bra back on.

“nope.  and you’re a hypocrite for that,” i said.  he furrowed his eyebrows.

“for what?”

“for flirting and fucking with multiple different people, but when you thought i did it with one person, it’s bad.”

“i haven’t fucked anyone else since we were together that night,” he said.  i raised my eyebrows.

“are you serious?”

“yes, i’m serious.  sure, i’ve been flirting with other people, but that was to try and get my mind off of you.  i haven’t been able to stop fucking thinking about you since then,” he said, causing my cheeks to flush a dark red.

“we just fucked around for a good 30 minutes, and that’s what gets you to blush?” he asked.

“shut up,” i laughed, slipping my shirt over my head.

“have you been with anyone else?” he asked.  i looked up at him and shook my head no. “good.”

“good?” i asked.

“yes, good.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“what are you, fucking dense? it means good.  i don’t want you with anyone else.”

“so, what are you gonna do to prevent that?” i asked, digging deeper to try and see if he wanted to be exclusive.  he pursed his lips as he slipped his shirt on over his head.

“you’re really gonna make me say it?” he asked.  i nodded my head.

“you, me, together.  yes? okay, good.”

“that’s not good enough,” i said.  he sighed.

“you know i’m not good at this,” he said.  i shrugged, “i love you.  and i would like for you to be my.. girlfriend.” a wide smile took over my face and i crawled toward him.

“you love me?” i asked.  he looked away from me, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek trying to prevent a smile.

“yeah, i love you,” he said, looking down at me.

“guess what?” i said.

“what?”

“i love you too.”

“yeah, you better after the way i just made you cum,” he said.  i pushed his shoulder playfully.  

all of a sudden, we heard chatter and footsteps approaching the van.  we both scrambled to put the rest of our clothes on before the van door slid open revealing pope, kie, and sarah.  john b hopped into the drivers seat and started the car.  

“where’d you two sneak off to?” sarah asked as she climbed into the van.  

“uh, just got bored of the party,” i lied.

“why are you all sweaty?” kie asked, following behind sarah.

“we were... playing.. tag,” jj said, causing me to pinch the bridge of my nose.

“it smells like sex in here,” sarah said.  i opened my eyes to see the dumbfounded look on their faces.

“wait...” kie started, realization flooding her features.

“holy shit, you two are fuckin’!” john b exclaimed.

“no-”

“uh, yeah you are.”

“in the van?!” pope yelled.  i covered my face with my hands.  

“when the actual fuck did this happen?” kie asked.

“how long have you two been doing it?” sarah asked.

“we haven’t, it was just tonight and one other night,” i said.

“please for the love of god tell me it wasn’t at the chateau,” john b said, causing jj and i to exchange a look.

“you have to be kidding me,” pope said.

“okay, look, we don’t care that you two are fucking, alright? just do it at your house,” john b said.

“yeah.  anything else you need to get off your chests?” pope asked.

“well, i mean, we’re dating now,” jj said.

“wow, how cute.  now, don’t ever fuck in the van again”

“what are you gonna do to stop us?” jj asked, causing me to hit him in the chest.

“we won’t.”

#jj #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank smut #smut #obx smut #jj maybank x reader #obx x reader #rudy pankow

[minamotoz]

a few degrassi Thoughts as i rewatch the first 5 seasons (mostly season 4)

> jay and rick are my problematic favorites, not in the sense that i condone their actions or think theyre good people in anyway, but they are too enjoyable for me to hate. i think this is a bit more controversial to say about rick than it is to say about jay but idc. jay is the funniest character of the whole show and rick is arguably the best written, not to mention theyre both acted incredibly well.

> craig peaked in his first episode lmfaoo like he really had this INCREDIBLE character introduction and they never were able to recapture that. i still think hes one of the best acted characters in the show but after a certain point i feel like im going to overdose with all the craig content they shove down my throat that is good at best and insufferable at worst.

> sean and ellie are at their best and arguably their most tolerable when theyre dating each other. thats probably my sellie bias but before and after they break up neither are all that remarkable as characters. when sean comes back in s6 hes just kinda boring and ellie in s5 is downright insufferable. also i hate how they never really bring up sellie after they break up? they say they love each other and then sean stays in wasaga and ???? they never speak of or to each other again? weird choice for a pairing that were so close they were living with each other for a period of time, but anything for semma i guess.....

> ashley isnt that bad and i still dont understand why the hate for her is so overblown that people put her at the same level as canon abusers, rapists, and general criminals.

> jt was probably the first character i latched onto from the TNG era but on rewatch hes kinda unlikeable???? i still like him a lot but idk the way he treated toby and liberty pissed me off >:/ not to mention he lost almost all of his charm by s5 (coincidentally around the time they gave him a Serious storyline) idk.... toby and liberty outsold and thats why they got together 2 seconds after he was murdered :p

> 'mercy street' (aka the penis pump episode) is the best episode of s4 and one of the best in the whole series you can fight me on this. the only other episodes in s4 that i think are close enough to mercy streets level are 'time stands still' (duh) and 'secret part 2' (alex punching amy straight into the black hole? social diseases?? jiberty nonsense in the background? kid elrick in the flesh? banger episode all around)

> the shows treatment of toby will never not make me viscerally upset. my boy deserved so much better than he got and i will cry over him to this day bc the writers hated him so much for no reason. i hope hes out there somewhere dating liberty and living his best life working out the insane amounts of trauma they piled onto him without proper resolution.

> when i first watched s1-8 i remember liking manny but not really understanding how she was SO popular that its like sin to say anything bad about her. on rewatch, i totally get it. manny santos is an icon living who has done nothing wrong in her entire life.

> i like spinner and the direction his character took in s4B onward, but man do i wish he wasnt the focus of the shooting aftermath. i get he was heavily involved with it, but the other characters that were also heavily affected barely got anything! sean got that one episode where he told ellie what happened when he accidentally killed rick before lamely jetskiing in circles and nearly drowning, and the resolution to his trauma was staying in wasaga for a whole season. emma got gonorrhea and i guess her hanging around with jay and acting out was her way of coping, we got like 5 seconds of tobys feelings on ricks death because god forbid toby has screentime for any longer than that. hell, we barely saw jimmy in the hospital and dealing with being newly paralyzed outside of the episode where craig and marco snuck him out of the hospital to see kid elrick. idk i like spinners arc but oh my god why couldnt we get more elaboration on the other characters' trauma surrounding the event. :/

> rick making that list of girls in the school was pretty gross and i hate him for indoctrinating my meow meow toby into misogyny but that list was fucking bonkers. his top 3 in order was ms hatzilakos, heather sinclair and emma. at that point i just think rick became down bad for any girl that didnt shove him into a locker on sight. in another universe he pointed the gun at ms hatzilakos for 'flirting' with him lmao

#degrassi #long post #jay hogart #rick murray #craig manning #ashley kerwin #sellie #jt yorke #toby isaacs #manny santos

[ashesandhalefire]

progress report: i am missing you to death

alex, michael, and a lot of unsaid things.

-

inspired by an entirely out of context teaser shot of alex and a desperate need for interaction that has yet to be satisfied by season 3 canon.

-

Deep Sky provides the coordinates and the time, so Alex shows up and waits.

While he stands in the cool night air, he scans the flat terrain that stretches out to one side and the gully where the highway sits. Other than the whizzing traffic, oblivious to his insignificance, everything is quiet.

After about twenty minutes of the vibrating stillness, Michael slinks out of the shadows with his hat tucked low over his face and leans against the back of the car beside Alex’s SUV.

Blood rushing in his ears, Alex does a second quick sweep of the lot’s perimeter. Nothing obvious has changed in the shadows since he crept through the bushes to check potential sight lines, but Alex isn’t stupid. He was in over his head when Project Shepherd turned out to be just his father’s backroom hobby. Deep Sky outclasses his expertise in a way he isn’t ready to reckon with. They could be anywhere—somewhere in the lot, somewhere down the road, somewhere miles away—and Michael has sauntered directly into their crosshairs.

He left about five feet between them when he stopped to hook one ankle over the other and stare out at the traffic, and the distance is enough for deniability. Alex tightens his hands into anxious fists and forces a long, deep breath through his nose.

“Hey,” Michael says with a casual nod of his head. They stand listening to the roar of tires chewing their ways along the desert highway, and Alex waits for a sign. He checks Michael’s chest for the red point of a laser sight just in case. Nothing happens. They stand a little longer, and then Michael leans over and asks, “You got a light?”

“No. You got a cigarette?”

The corner of Michael’s mouth twitches. It stirs up a fondness that Alex has carefully and surgically distanced himself from for the last few months, and he glances around the parking lot again. Being in love with Michael is too easy. He falls into it without needing to think about it or to try, and the laziness of trusting things to fate is probably why they’ve never gotten it right. He should probably consider himself lucky. Sinking back into those feelings now, fruitlessly, after so much time has passed, will make him sloppy in a way he can’t afford.

“You shouldn’t be here. They could see you.”

Michael tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugs, easy and unbothered. Or, almost unbothered. The muscles in his jaw are tight and tense. “You don’t even know what they do or if they’re looking for me. I haven’t exactly been hiding for the last year.”

“That doesn’t mean you should paint a bullseye on your chest.”

“But you should?”

Michael spits barbs like an old man working his way through seeded melon, careless and precise in equal measure. He always finds soft flesh.

“This isn’t a game,” Alex grits out, face growing hot with frustration. He watches a tractor trailer speed by on the road below and shoot a piece of trash out from beneath its tires.

“So tell me what it is, then,” Michael says, mouth turning down and voice suddenly going sharp as a knife’s edge, “because I didn’t really wait around to hear the rest of the story after Valenti said you were joining a cult.”

Alex looks over, and Michael’s brow is pinched to match the irritated wrinkle of his nose. Anger and tension leak off him like heat shimmers off the pavement at midday. He holds his casual posture, ankles crossed and hands tucked, but his eyes are furious.

“It’s complicated.”

Michael scoffs. “You know what, I shouldn’t bother. I should just drag your ass home, no questions.”

And now Alex’s temper flares: “Try it.”

“You think I wouldn’t? To save you?” He laughs meanly. “I’d have you over my shoulder so fucking fast—”

“I don’t need to be saved.”

“Obviously, you do.” Michael pushes off the car. The brim of his hat catches the light from the lamppost and casts half his face in shadows. “We have enough problems on our hands right now. We don’t need to poke the bear.”

“This bear poked first,” Alex says, equally furious. He checks behind Michael before hissing through his teeth, “They kidnapped Mimi. They drugged Jenna Cameron. Turnabout is fair play.”

“This isn’t turnabout! This isn’t even revenge. You’re joining their club. You are flinging yourself into a pit, Alex. A big, dark, deep pit, and when you get far enough in, none of us are going to be able to get you out. We’re gonna lose you. For good. And for no fucking reason.”

“Not for no reason,” Alex says. A tingle of shame trickles up the back of his neck. He knows he’s unprepared, going in without an exit strategy. But he can’t sit on his hands and do nothing. It makes him nervous and paranoid to be idle. “They know things.”

“Who gives a shit? Who gives one fucking iota of a shit about what they know?”

Alex frowns. “You have always wanted to know more—”

“Not like this! Not at the risk of—” Michael puts a fist to his forehead. Then he pulls off his hat and takes another step closer. His voice is softer when he speaks. “Why are you so hellbent on doing this, huh? This isn’t just your dad anymore. This is bigger than that.”

“I know.”

“They are gonna swallow you whole, and what’s the point if you’re just gone?”

Alex draws another long inhale through his nose. The weight of the thick, ugly ring on his finger feels like an anchor dragging him down. The memories of Caulfield crumbling to pieces in a cloud of fire are heavier. “If there’s even a chance that they know something, what choice do I have? I’m not getting caught off guard again. I owe you that much.”

“Bullshit,” Michael says with a jerk of his chin. “Doing it is one thing, but don’t pretend you’re doing it for me.” A pair of low-riding sports cars scream down the highway behind him, bobbing and weaving through the minimal traffic with their engines blaring. One falters behind a gas tanker and then chases its companion off towards the horizon with an roar. “If you had any interest in doing something for me, you would stay.”

Cold uncertainty creeps into Alex’s chest, and no number of layers can keep it out. He wants to ask: would I be welcome? Because he hasn’t felt like he would be in a long time. He had showed up, again and again. Sometimes, he had been wanted, and sometimes, he hadn’t been. The haze of open mic night had cleared for an instant, and the future had been visible, tangible, workable, and then, just as quickly, had vanished into the air. He had been left with Isobel’s obvious, humiliating pity, her mouth turned down as she stood to listen through the last note. That door had been closed. And yet, he wants to ask: would I be welcome? Dignity be damned.

“Are— are you asking me to stay?”

There must be something in his voice when he says it, no matter how hard he tries to control the pathetic wavering and the sunken surprise on his face, that means something to Michael. His whole body eases forward as if carried by an invisible current before he catches himself and says, “I’m done asking people for more than they’re willing to give me.”

“But you would ask? If you thought—?” Alex pushes. “You would want to ask?”

The corners of Michael’s mouth turn down and his gaze narrows almost imperceptibly, but Alex is watching for it. The more Michael closes off, the more Alex feels himself splitting open. Something bright and electric stirs in his chest.

“Because I thought you wouldn’t,” he says, waiting for the moment when Michael’s eyes widen, just slightly, just enough to understand. It comes, exactly as expected, and Michael sways closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d ask. I’m not about to beg, but I’d ask.”

He’s gotten Michael to beg before, but never for something as serious as love. On his back or on his knees or in the bed of his truck, Alex has heard him plead and bargain for things he wants in the neediest, most desperate whispers, but that had been all carnal, base pleasure, and he had known Alex wouldn’t tell him no. Here, he’s talking about a different type of submission, the kind that humiliates someone like Michael, someone who has never been given enough. Michael won’t beg, and Alex needs to be asked, and a lot of time has been wasted between them thinking that one is the same as the other.

He can’t say he’ll stay. He’s too far in to back out. And, even if he could do it, staying doesn’t mean riding off into the sunset. It means more of the same: the secrets, the conspiracies, the mysteries, the agonies, the scraping open of old wounds in last-ditch efforts to heal them. But it also means Michael, so everything else is white noise.

Michael sees it all play out on his face. He sets his hat on the roof of Alex’s car and then turns to lean against the hatchback. He sighs, and Alex can tell that more weight than usual is resting on his shoulders. It’s not just Max dragging him under. His whole body sags with it, and the sharp focus that’s been in his eyes begins to recede as he drifts away towards the call of whatever nightmare is lurking at the back of his mind.

“It’ll be okay,” Alex says because he lacks for anything else to say, and Michael  stares at his boots with a sad smile. His throat bobs as he swallows down whatever it is that’s too hard to talk about with so little time left to say it, and then he turns to look at Alex.

“Your dad was a piece of shit,” he says, like this is some sort of revelation, “and you’re you.”

The words, said like an accusation, should probably turn his stomach, but they’re also said with a reverence that pushes Alex’s heart up into his throat. Whatever is happening has rocked Michael to his core far beyond how Alex knows to help.

“Less of a piece of shit, I hope.”

Michael stares at him, flexing his hand, and then says, with a nod, “Significantly, yeah.”

“I guess that’s the best I can hope for.” Alex laughs, and then he tips his head back to look at the starless sky. “I’ll take being afraid of being like him over being proud of being like him any day. At least it means I’m going in the right direction.”

Jesse haunts Alex differently than he haunts Michael. To Michael, Jesse is another human face that did something terrible to him, just more proof that looking for another planet to run to is a good idea. Jesse is a more specific phantom for Alex, much harder to let blur into the background of the general awfulness of life. There are reminders of his father all around town: placards, photographs, the sign for the street they lived on, a six-foot statue in town square. Those can be faced much more easily than the hints of his father that Alex finds in the mirror: the deep-set wrinkles in his brows, the cut of his mouth when he frowns, the tone of his voice when he yells, the shape of his thumb. To be a little less like him every day is an exhausting but necessary struggle.

Michael smiles, and Alex, mystified, thinks maybe he managed to help after all.

“Your plan wasn’t really to drag me home over your shoulder, was it?” he asks to distract from how Michael carefully swipes a finger at the corner of one eye.

Michael huffs, and the car jostles. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just wasn’t about to let you go without—” He licks his lips and says, “I wasn’t about to let you just go.”

Alex scuffs his shoe against the loose gravel. “Couldn’t get Kyle’s hubcaps off this time?”

Guilt settles over him after he says it. Guilt and something else, something like the relief of setting down a heavy burden that’s been carried too long.

“I thought you were making a mistake back then, too.” Michael takes the comment in stride, accepts it, and reaches out to touch the ring on Alex’s hand. He pinches it carefully, Alex’s fingers curled into the heat of his palm, and rolls his thumb until the ring twists to expose the thinner underside of the band. He strokes, skin then metal then skin, over and over. “Flinging yourself into some dark pit that you’d never come out of again.”

Alex wants to tell him that this is different. He can’t.

“Do me a favor, okay?”

Hand slipping up over Alex’s wrist and into the soft corner of his elbow, Michael crosses the final inches of space between them and pulls Alex close. In the dim light of the parking lot, they might be mistaken for the sort of strangers who meet in shadowy corners for quick exchanges of misery with rough words and rougher touch. But then Michael, trembling, touches the lapel of Alex’s jacket and presses a long kiss to his cheek.

He keeps his mouth there, breath hot and soft, and, before he gathers himself enough to continue, Alex says, “I’ll come back.”

Michael laughs, but it sounds like a gasp for air. “Not even gonna let me ask?”

Alex hums. “I’ll come back.”

“Yeah, you’ll come back,” Michael warns, “or I’ll come get you. And it won’t be fucking subtle.”

It sends a shiver down his spine to think of Michael storming a place as infinitely large as Deep Sky feels. If it comes to that, he’d be better off left behind. But as the thought comes, Michael’s grip shifts and the tentative press of their sides becomes a full-bodied hug that envelopes him like a warm breeze. His nose turns into the side of Michael’s neck: rain, crisp and fresh; gasoline, but faint; smoke, from his fire pit.

“I’m not really going anywhere. It’ll be fine.”

Michael squeezes, and Alex squeezes back. Everything else he wants to say is too big for this moment. And, selfishly, he wants to know that Michael will wait to hear it. He scolds himself for the thought, because they’ve each done their share of waiting miserably at the wayside, but then he lets it stand. Michael squeezes again, fingertips digging into separate points as he clings.

Alex cups a hand to the back of his head and touches his curls. He thinks about what it would mean to kiss Michael now, to kiss someone that he loves, who loves him, and imagines a tower of precariously stacked dominoes. Michael laughs wetly, and Alex lets go first, fingers lingering reluctantly.

#malex fic #malex #roswell new mexico #michael x alex #my fic #i read the jungle; the grapes of wrath; and another country in less than two weeks. idt my writing style even knows which way is up rn #but i had to Produce Something or i was going to go crazy so :/

[teamhawkeye]

OC Names Tag Game (pt. 3)

once more, thanks to @belorage for enabling me to do this, haha

If you’d like to play, the name of the game is character name meanings and any relevant reasoning you may have for your choices

F/O, G/T/A, and T/E/S kids:

KATE ANTILLES

Kate: origin, shortened form of Catherine/Katherine meaning “pure”. ngl, i almost always make my first save file named “Kate” until i come up with an actual character name and backstory...however, my LW remained without a first name for a long while and by the time i thought to give her one, only “Kate” fit in my mind at that point so it stuck lmfao. also works that her mother’s canon name is “Catherine” so she was named in honor of her.

Antilles: Caribbean origin, name of a chain of islands. Taken from the Star Wars character, Wedge Antilles

JEM

Jem: English origin, shortened form of “James” or “Jemima”. Play on words for “gem” and “jem” and how she takes a sarcastic comment calling her a “gem” and chooses that for her name. Also taken from James “Jem” Coughlin from the 2010 film “The Town”, and a similar reasoning he gives for his nickname

DECKARD CONNOR MURPHY GRANT

Deckard: Taken from Rick Deckard of the 1982 film “Blade Runner”

Connor: Irish-Gaelic origin, meaning “lover of hounds”. Taken from Sarah Connor of The Terminator film series

Murphy: Irish-Gaelic origin, meaning “sea warrior”. Taken from Alex Murphy of the 1987 film “Robocop”

Grant: English-Scottish origin, meaning “tall” or “large”. Taken from Dr. Alan Grant, from the 1990 book and 1993 film “Jurassic Park”

NATHAN ALEXANDER GRANT

Nathan: Hebrew origin, meaning “he has given” or “he will give”. Just the game-given name for Sole’s husband that i rolled with, no other reason behind it.

Alexander: Greek origin, meaning “defender of men/mankind”. Just had nice flow with Nathan/Nate, so i picked it for that reason alone

Grant: English-Scottish origin, meaning “tall” or “large”. Taken from Dr. Alan Grant, from the 1990 book and 1993 film “Jurassic Park”

ALESSANDRA ISABELLA FORELLI

Alessandra: Italian origin, form of “Alexandra”, meaning “defender of mankind”. Chosen for Italian origins and the number of nicknames that can be derived from it, including “Sandy” which is the name she is most known by, haha

Isabella: Italian origin, variant of “Isabel” and therefore also “Elizabeth”, meaning “devoted to god”. Chosen for Italian origins and its aesthetic appeal

Forelli: Italian origin. Sandy is the younger sister of Sonny Forelli, the main antagonist of Vice City, and thus also shares his family surname.

EVA MARIE RUSSELL FORELLI

Eva: Hebrew origin, variant of “Eve”, meaning “life”. Just liked its short, briefness, especially since her first name is not all that important to this character, haha.

Marie: French origin, variant of the Latin “Mary”, meaning “star of the sea” or “of the sea”. Just sounded nice paired with “Eva”

Russell: French-Old Norse origin, meaning “red headed”. Taken from Russell “Stringer” Bell of the tv series “The Wire”

Forelli: Italian origin. Russ is the bastard child of Sonny Forelli and eventually takes her father’s name for herself after leaving Liberty City with her lover, Claude.

VESPER

Vesper: Latin origin, meaning “evening star”. Named for Vesper Lynd from the James Bond book/film “Casino Royale”

LYRA

Lyra: Greek origin, meaning “Lyre”. Name taken from Lyra Erso from the Star Wars film “Rogue One”.

SONYA

Sonya: Russian origin, variant of “Sophia”, meaning “wisdom”. Named in honor of Sonya Blade from Mortal Kombat

#Seba|Faras|Lilandra don't fulfill the criteria for this game - they have no real 'origins' outside of fictional names and naming conventions #and then my other OCs i either don't talk about enough or no one would care about lmao - so here's the last part!

[templedragon]

Supergirl Dansen Identity Reveal The Wrap

An interview  with Queller and Rovner about the Dansen identity reveal being offscreen, with The Wrap (article link in comments).

Several points were made. Only one good point - that Kelly is the last Superfriend to find out that Kara is Supergirl. That means there are no new additions to Superfriends, like Andrea or William.

The reasons Rovner and Queller give for skipping this identity reveal is 1) time and 2) lack of conflict. Regarding time, as the show runners they decide the content of episodes. This means they would rather an over budget montage of Lex ruining the Fortress of Solitude to music in 6x01, or William Dey reacting to a screen like a football match at a bar in 6x02 or any prolonged Lex scene (14 minutes of screentime), than a key relationship moment between a character second billed since the show started. Alex telling her girlfriend that her sister is Supergirl is huge.

Regarding lack of conflict, LGBTQIA+ people need to see healthy relationships organically develop. We're tired of being sidelined, killed, or villain coded. Dansen is an interracial lesbian canon romance and means a lot with intersectionality. If the writer attitude is conflict driven, then it wouldn't surprise us if Dansen got married and adopted a child off screen, too. Meanwhile, the same writers happily show a man fantasise spit shouting into a woman's face because of his false beliefs. The show is about hope, and bad parts have to be balanced with good parts to show things are worth it.

There's an aspect of a benign black character just being a soundboard for everyone else rather than a multi faceted character with their own agency. Obsidian North just folded so Kelly is out of a job, but this is not mentioned. Alex is also out of a job as she quit the DEO before it exploded, so questions about their income supporting each other and how they are paying for rent and bills are healthy steps in a romance. They may have moved into Alex's apartment off screen.

The article also mentions avoiding repetitive storylines. I fell off my chair laughing, as even the identity reveals are repetitive. They make a comparison between Supercorp and a canon romance (more queerbait). Most identity reveals are romance framed. Winn found out as he guessed Kara was gay but her news wasn't about her sexuality. James already knew and that was the original romance before Queller and Rovner said the pairing was too noble to be worth watching (again, interracial). James wanted Lucy to know as he didn't want the secret to harm his rekindled romance. Kara telling Lena was framed romantically, with balcony gayzing and tearful confessions. Alex telling Kelly is akin to James and Lucy. The only platonic reveal was Kara to Nia, as Kara needed a surrogate sister with Alex's mindwipe about her identity.

Repetitive storylines are the show. Lex being the true villain behind the aliens happened for two seasons, going on three, to the extent they had a dedicated exposition episode when we'd already seen what he was up to post COIE. Kara repeatedly saying that Earth is her home after an external temptation. Kara giving a hope speech to save the day. CatCo has taskmaster CEOs in Cat and Andrea. Kara has met up with another presumed dead parent. Men being jerks but it being framed as romantic interest for the lead. White men getting things handed to them off screen without merit (Lex and the DEO, Mon El and the Legion). Winn's dad having numerous episodes re-exploring if he's bad or good, when Winn isn't main cast. The endless questioning as to Lena being a Luthor and separating her from the Superfriends. Lena being unable to escape her abusive family, to the extent they are resurrected and out of prison in a newly formed reality. Alex has been usurped of being head of the DEO by Col. Haley and Lex, before she quit.

Repetition is meant to compare and contrast. Lena and Kara made declarations to their parents about their family names being meant for good in 6x02. They declared they would do whatever it takes to stop Lex in season 6. Following the identity reveal in season 5, instead of Kara and the Superfriends offering apologies and itemised explanations for the secret and betrayal, they decided that Lena should have a secret and betray Kara's trust to parallel. Why show healthy relationships when you can prop up a plot?

#supergirl #supergirl season 6 #dansen #alex danvers #kellly olsen #representation matters #lgbtqia+ #identity reveal #supercorp

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Seven ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2738

Warnings: Canon-level violence, injury, blood

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Happy Monday! I’m so thankful for each and every one of you <3

We rise with the first rays of the sun. As much as I hate to admit it, I feel refreshed after a full rest. I slept soundly, trusting my brothers to do their job well. They did spend the whole night awake though, so I make a note to ensure that they sleep tonight, even if they will need to get up for second watch. As helpful as it would be to have two others on the watch rotation, I can’t risk putting the humans to the job—their senses are so inferior. I’ve snuck up on them nearly ten times by now, all without meaning to.

Rumil brings Roch into line behind Faervel. Farther on Roch’s back sits Cosima, her arms wrapped around my brother’s middle. She’s much more comfortable on the horse now, and if the mountains weren’t so rocky and full of steep drop-offs, I would suggest that she lead the horse—the experience is important. Alexander has expressed zero interest in learning how to care for or ride a horse, or learn anything about Arda, really. I will allow him the journey to adjust, but if he decides to return with us to Lothlórien, he will have to acquire skills to become more self-sufficient. Though, I have a feeling Alexander will attempt to leave this realm, or, at the very least, seek out a human settlement. I just don’t know if Cosima will go with him. She seems to have accepted our world and has taken steps towards making it her own, but she is tied to her human friend. The hold he has over her concerns me, though I do understand it. They’re each other’s only tie to the world they left behind. It would be hard to break that bond.

The sun rises above one of the higher peaks, blinding me for the brief second it takes for my eyes to adjust. Looking up, I see the morning sky is decorated with thick stripes of pale pink and brilliant gold. I take a second, and only a second, to enjoy it, then return to scanning my surroundings. This level of vigilance used to exhaust me, but by now, it’s as natural as breathing. Even when I am off duty, taking my leave in Caras Galadon or vacationing in Imladris or elsewhere, I never fully relax my surveillance. It is better to be prepared. Advanced warning can mean everything.

I hear the sound of a canteen rattling and Cosima clears her throat. “Hey, Haldir?”

“Yes?”

“When did you say we would reach that stream?”

I stretch my eyesight as far I can. It’s difficult in the mountains, where boulders and peaks and valleys hinder a proper line of sight, but I make out a slight glimmer on a rock far ahead of us—sun glinting off the surface of water and casting light on the boulder. “By tomorrow morning, I’d wager.” Then, the pieces click together. I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

I can hear the forced nonchalance in her voice. “No reason.”

I sigh. She really should have been more careful with her rationing. “Rumil and I will share water with you.”

Rumil protests at the same time Cosima calls out her thanks. I leave them to their good-natured bickering and return my full focus to guiding my horse and my company.

A slight movement registers in the corner of my eye. “Draw arms!”

I unsheathe my sword and swing it to the right just in time to stop the arrow finishing its flight to my youngest brother. I block another one aimed at my neck. I hear Orophin and Baranor free the swords at their hips, as well as Rumil hurriedly instructing Cosima to take the reins. She protests, likely not yet fully registering the attack, and I cover them as they argue. “Cosima, do as he says,” I call back. I need Rumil and his bow to take out the attackers on the hillside to our right. Orcs, likely.

My suspicions are confirmed when twelve of them descend from the peaks to our left and right, converging on us in the middle. Rumil has evidently persuaded Cosima to take control of Roch and has put his bow to good use, killing the orc that focused its fire on us from above. Sharp clangs and the shouts of battle create a chaotic cacophony that is all too familiar. I urge Faervel forward, cutting through the middle of an orc as I go. One chances a blow to my leg but before it can carry out the act, I sever its head from its neck. By my count, ten more to go.

Arrows rain from above, this time coming from our left. Alexander shouts, and I risk turning around to see if he’s been hit. Thankfully, he hasn’t — an arrow had only come relatively close to him. I have to remind myself how frightening this must be for humans who have never experienced an orc ambush, or even an orc. While unpleasant, an attack like this is part of the job for myself and my wardens — even Baranor, who frequently heals others on the battlefield. With that in mind, I cut down another orc and bring Cosima into view. She grips Roch’s reins with an intensity that turns her knuckles white and whips her head around, trying to keep all the beasts in her line of sight. It pleases me to see that she’s attempting to be observant, even if her already weak senses are untrained and thus dilute her efforts.

While Rumil focuses fire on the orcs attempting to fell us with arrows, an orc in the infantry rushes Roch. Cosima jerks the reins to the right, spurring him into movement. The motion catches Rumil’s attention, and, with deadly accuracy, he hits the orc in the eye. He turns his attention back to the skies, attempting to locate those that still assail us with arrows.

Concussions sound to my left — the beasts have dislodged a pile of rocks, trying to crush us. Faervel is an intelligent steed and dodges the boulders skillfully, allowing me to keep my attention on beheading one of the orcs who jabs towards my middle. As I kill another, the arrows cease falling from above—Rumil’s done his job, then.

Six orcs left.

Those remaining attempt to surround us. Can’t have that. I guide Faervel past the furthest beasts and then turn, swinging my sword, forcing them to fall back. From the rear of our line, Orophin follows my lead, blocking an orc’s blow and returning it with a fatal one. Baranor rears his horse to narrowly avoid being knocked off by an axe. I tighten my jaw. It is risky forcing the orcs into the middle when four of our company must share that space with them. I shake my head, firm in my original decision. It is less risky than allowing the orcs to encircle us.

Alex yelps and directs Baranor to an orc approaching them from behind, having snuck past Orophin. They keep coming. They must be hiding in the rocks. My youngest brother recognizes the urgency building at the back of our line and concentrates his close-range fire on those that attack there. He has also noticed the threat hiding in the rocks and kills the beasts as quickly as he can identify them.

The noises of battle are loud, but any experienced warrior knows it’s the quieter sounds—the ones out of place—that are the most important. A boot scuffs against stone and I raise my sword just in time to meet the massive orc that throws himself from the rock above me. We collide, falling to the ground. The impact knocks the breath from me and the colossal weight on my chest definitely doesn’t help. With my left hand, I retrieve my dagger, slicing towards the beast’s neck. He stops me with his sword, pressing the blade to my own throat. He’s strong, but I’m stronger. I push against him, using the leverage from my movement to flip us over and, before he can register the change, I plunge my blade into his gut.

A fiery sting shoots up my leg and I kick my uninjured foot, knocking the newcomer in the head. He falls to the ground, stunned by the blow, and I draw myself to full height. His rotting flesh squelches when I stab him in the chest. In the second I have before another beast attacks me, I check the weapon that sliced my leg. Not poisoned. Good.

A scream pierces the air.

Cosima.

I whip around, locating her quickly. She gasps, gripping below her left shoulder, staring at the blood between her fingers in shock. I switch my dagger to my dominant hand and throw it forward. Within a second, it is buried to the hilt in her assailant’s chest, and he falls to the ground with a thud.

A blow from behind sends me sprawling, and I catch myself just before my face collides with the dirt. Coughing violently, I twist, jabbing my sword under the orc’s chest plate and in between his ribs — a fatal strike. Mentally, I reprimand myself for getting so distracted, and let my eyes wander around our surroundings, checking for any enemies we have yet to eliminate. Only one remains, and Orophin ends its life with a deliberate slice to the gut. Everyone is alive and accounted for, thank the Valar. I run to them.

Cosima’s face contorts in pain — she’s gone sickly pale. Panic I didn’t feel during the attack sears through my chest. How much blood can humans lose before it is fatal? “How badly are you hurt?”

“It’s just her arm,” Rumil answers for her, looking quite distressed himself. “It’s deep. I do not think the sword was poisoned, though.”

“You don’t think or you know? How sure are you?”  My voice is harsh—harsher than it needs to be, probably, and I try to de-escalate. I’m likely still fired up from battle.

Rumil sets me with an even gaze, nothing but honesty in his eyes. “I know. The sword was not poisoned.”

I nod, feeling my breathing begin to slow. “Good.”

Alexander calls worriedly from the edge of the group. “What happened? Is she okay? Cosima!”

“I’m fine,” she grits back. Her voice is scratchy, strained, so obviously speaking through the pain that it makes my stomach hurt.

But the pain will pass, I remind myself. But for now, I can’t say for sure if the threat has. And I need to be sure.

“Baranor,” I gesture to my friend. “Bind her wound so it is secure for travel. Orophin—search back and make sure we are not being followed. I’ll scout ahead.”

Before turning to leave, my eyes seek Cosima’s of their own accord. Hers are tight, squinted against the pain I’m sure she’s not used to feeling. In them I see so much fear—terror, even—and I feel resolve settle within me. An attacker won’t get an opportunity like that again.

I pull my gaze away. There’s still work to do.

{***}

Thankfully, no orcs hide ahead. Though I am reluctant to leave the group for long, I spend a handful of moments retracing the trail our attackers took. It leads to a shallow, empty cave and an abandoned fire pit. Just to be safe, I stomp the pit under Faervel’s hooves. That will discourage other orcs from sheltering here.

In this rare moment of privacy, I roll up the edge of my right legging, assessing the injury to my leg. It’s shallow, just a slice, really, and the sting is minor enough that I’ve nearly forgotten about it. Satisfied that it’s not serious, I decide to wait to have Baranor look at it until we’re settled for the night. Right now, my top priorities are Cosima’s wound and getting moving again. Now that we’ve encountered a pack of orcs, I am even more eager to reach the safety of Imladris.

I ride back to where I left the others, arriving not long after Orophin. No orcs on his end, either. Good. I dismount, leaving Faervel in Rumil’s care and join Baranor where he crouches on the ground next to Cosima. Behind her, Alexander paces anxiously.

Baranor smoothes a salve over the torn skin. It seems he’s already cut away the excess cloth of her tunic sleeve and cleaned her wound. Part of me is grateful I was gone for it—by the haggard look on Cosima’s face, it can’t have been a pleasant experience. Like Rumil said, the wound is deep. Orcs don’t typically use well-crafted weapons, and this one was no different—a jagged blade had been used to injure Cosima, possibly an old knife or a scrap piece of metal fashioned into a rudimentary sword.

I raise my eyes to hers and find her already looking at me, watching my expression intently. Looking for signs that she should be worried, probably. I say a quick prayer of thanks to the Valar for my natural stoicism that gives nothing away and for our safety. Then, I address my obviously shaken friend. “Baranor is one of the best healers in Lothlórien. The cut looks frightening and hurts, but it will heal.”

She nods, keeping her jaw tightly clenched.

My heart aches. I look to Baranor, at a loss. His bedside manner comes much more naturally, and he gives an easy smile as he wraps a clean bandage around Cosima’s upper arm. “There, that will do the trick until we reach Imladris. I want to redress it tonight though, and again in the morning. I’ve used some of my power to aid the healing process begun by the salve—we’ll see where it’s at tonight. Don’t you worry my dear friend.”

Cosima bobs her head again, murmuring her thanks to our healer. The look on her face—stricken, fearful, pained—both hurts me and draws attention to the steadily growing guilt. I should have been faster. I should have looked out better. I should have—

I jerk my head to the side, trying to free myself from these thoughts. As leader of the group, all faults are mine. But dwelling on that now won’t keep us safe, so, for the time being, I stand, gesturing for the others to do the same. “We should get going. I don’t want to lose more time.”

Rumil nods and hands me Faervel’s reins, reaching down to help Cosima stand. I hear him whisper a heartfelt apology to her, sounding as if he feels just as much guilt as I do.

She waves it off, wincing when she moves her injured arm. “It’s not your fault. I’m okay.”

But her voice sounds fragile, devoid of the liveliness that characterized it this morning. Rumil also notices the change in our friend and is extra gentle when he grips her foot to lift her onto Roch’s back.

Something pricks at the edges of my mind, bothering me. “No.” I hear my voice ring out over the silence. I’m met with five pairs of questioning eyes. I clear my throat, hastening to gather my thoughts. “Rumil, I want you to guard the back with your bow. I’ll take Cosima on Faervel so you can focus on shooting if there’s another attack.”

Seeing the logic in this, Rumil nods, releasing Cosima and mounting Roch alone, leading the horse to the back of our company. As Alexander passes to join Baranor, he takes Cosima’s hand in his, squeezing. She gives him a tired-looking smile then walks to join me at the front of the group.

Automatically, I kneel, locking my hands together as I wait for her foot.

She hesitates. “No orcs in Imladris?”

I hold her gaze, wanting her to see the honesty in my eyes. “No orcs in Imladris.”

She swallows and places her boot in my hands. “Good. Let’s get going, then.”

I help her up, taking the opportunity to assess her face. The fear remains, but it is now eclipsed by a hardness, a determination. She’s putting up a wall. I know. I’ve been there.

But there’s nothing we can do about it now. We’re still in the orc-infested mountains and we need to reach safety. So, I grip Faervel’s mane and pull myself in front of Cosima. I give the order and we continue our journey.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are the best :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3. That will notify you automatically when I post there!

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Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @fangirl-nonsense @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @tolkien-apologist @ordinarymom1 @sam-was-the-true-hero @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

**Strikethrough means Tumblr won’t let me tag you**

#tw injury #tw violence #tw blood #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #haldir #haldir of lorien #haldir x oc #haldir x ofc #haldir x own female charater #haldir x own character #tolkien elves #lothlorien elves #haldir fic #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction #haldir multi chapter work #orophin #rumil #ofc x haldir #haldir of lorien x ofc #haldir o lorien #haldir of lothlorien #lorien elves

[korra-the-red-lion]

Supergirl and Shipping

I was thinking about this last night and I just couldn’t wrap my head around how Supergirl has been pretty up and down with all the couples and ships of the show. Quite frankly, I don’t think anyone as been spared from poor treatment. Ship Wars in the fandom need to end and we should agree that SG has done us all dirty. I’m a Supercorp shipper, and some of my best friends are Karamels, but we can talk about our ships with fighting about them. We as a fandom need to acknowledge that there are toxic people in the shipping fandom, but not all shippers are toxic. You don’t have to like the ship, just respect that someone else does. Agree to disagree and move on if need be, but don’t fight please. Anyway, let’s take a look. Antis of any of these ships, please don’t interact.

Karaolsen: James was kind of a bland LI, admittedly, but that’s okay. Kara’s crush on him in s1 was really cute and the slow burn was worth the kiss in the end. But then they randomly end the relationship because Kara is “bored” by it. This couple might have actually planned to have been broken up but it’s hard to say. A*drew K*iegsberg interfered with it as soon as possible. This ship had potential to go far, but was never given the chance.

Supercorp: whole relationship is queerbaited by the studio. The chemistry the two actresses have is amazing. Lena and Kara are a good pair, having absolute belief in each other and would go to the ends of the world for each other (much like Olicity and WestAllen) but the studio went out of their way to have Lena do really awful things to Kara, and have Kara in turn do some really awful stuff as well. The show teases s5 is going to be a fight for Lena’s soul but then does everything it can to have Kara not to be involved, which made no sense. The parallels between Clois, WestAllen, and Olicity is ridiculous. Overall this is one of the more popular ships of the show but even then, the treatment of fans has been pretty rough. 

Karamel: Started off pretty cute, but then the show lost sight of itself in season 2 by having a huge focus be on Mon-El and the Daxamite storyline (this is not a roast of him or his character, this a general problem SG has with all its villains). The relationship was pretty rocky but finally settled into a groove (where Mon-El learns to finally respect Kara and her trust him) when the show tossed Mon-El into space. Then they tease the Karamel fandom by having him come back with a “will he, won’t he” storyline that ruined the development that he had into a mature character by having him emotionally cheat on Irma. Both him and Irma deserved better from that season.

Sanvers: Maggie and Alex probably wouldn’t have lasted the whole show, tbh, but the ending sucked. They knew Florina was leaving so they rushed the awful marriage storyline and then had them fight over children, something that was never brought up until that moment. Even when together, there were whole episodes where Maggie was only in it for 30 seconds and there would be no Sanvers scenes in the episode.

AgentReign: This was one of the roughest ones for me. Sam was introduced as a single mom with a child, and the chemistry between Odette and Chyler was through the roof. I don’t know if they planned for them to ever get together but it sure felt that way. Odette was not returning for the next season and they knew that, but instead let the fandom fall in love with the these two hoping they would get together, only to realize that it was never happening. Just a big ouch.

Lames: I think this ship is actually my least favourite of the whole show. Only because of how poorly it started out. James didn’t mind Lena at first, even thinking she was a good person because of Kara’s belief in her. But then the writers had him start mistrusting her and quite frankly never being kind to her unless Kara forced him to play nice. Then out of nowhere the show is like “nah they have the hots for each other” which was completely random. Then when it finally seemed okay they ended it...because reasons.

Dansen: I really love this couple but they got the short end of the stick. S5 ignored them in favour of Lex having infinite amounts of screen time. I wish there was more content, but it’s not from a lack of trying. The show hopefully gives them more screen time in the last season and maybe even ends with having them adopt a child together. They’re very mature and good for one another. They support each other through hardships and I wish we saw more of it in s5.

Brainia: The couple is super cute! I hate how s5 treated them, because it seemed like they made up drama for them to fight over. Nicole and Jesse had amazing chemistry and I’m glad they followed through with it. But hopefully they fix everything in s6, because I’m going to be very disappointed in the show if it doesn’t get resolved properly.

So yeah, looking these ships it's frustrating because they all had/have potential but the show hasn't been the best at actually following through with it's promises. Dansen and Brainia will both probably become canon, but it's sad when you think about the amount that has been spent on one of them while the other went through unnecessary drama.

All in all, being a shipper in the SG fandom sucks, haha.

#supergirl #supercorp #karaolsen #lames #karamel #agentreign #dansen #sanvers #brainia #shipping #shipping discourse #ship wars #long post

[lambourngb]

For the first sentence meme: “I didn’t have the words then.”

TITLE: there’s too much smoke to see it

PAIRING: Michael/Alex

TAGS: hurt/comfort, temporary character death, getting back together, lots of talking, lots of sex, brief forlex, malex is endgame, canon typical friendships between everyone

SUMMARY: He had run out of time in making things right with Alex, which honestly was the worst part of dying in Michael’s opinion. It would have been good to die without leaving behind regrets and things unsaid. But then he survived and nothing changed, or did it?

This is finished, 15,858 words.

****. 

“I didn’t have the words then.”

Michael glanced down at the fading bar of his cell phone battery in his hands, before turning to muffle the rib-shaking cough of dirt and grit from his throat into the bend of his arm. In their long history of loving one another, hurting one another, pushing each other, dragging each other back in, this was probably the cruelest thing he has done to Alex, leaving a goodbye message recorded on his phone.

The air was getting thinner in the cavern, the mix of carbon dioxide slowly taking over the available oxygen. Michael wasn’t sure if Mr. Jones wanted him to die from lack of water and food, or suffocate in the sealed space, only that he wanted Michael to suffer. That much had been made clear to Michael as he laid on the rocky ground with the depowering serum coursing through his veins. This was meant to be both his prison cell and grave, sentenced and executed for the crime of being his mother’s son. “I read up on these overly intelligent beasts you’ve surrounded yourself with, and I know they had your mother for a long time, tortured her for years, but it wasn’t by my hand, which lacks a certain emotional closure for me, I’m sure you understand.”

Collapsing the mouth of the abandoned mine with telekinesis, Michael’s last view was the self-satisfied expression of his brother but-not Jones, backing away with a sketched-salute.

After the dust settled and the walls stopped rattling, Michael had taken a quick accounting of the situation. A quick pat down of his pockets had revealed his multi tool, his truck keys and his cell phone, which was half-charged but with zero signal from the insulating barren rock walls of the mine. He had swept the meager flashlight over everything, hoping that he would find a place where there was water seeping in, or evidence that there was a forgotten shaft, only to be met with disappointment. What was even more concerning was that the mineral composition of the mine was unfamiliar to Michael, different from the patterns of strip-mined turquoise he recognized from the caverns that sheltered their pods. 

He wasn’t in Roswell. It was possible he wasn’t in New Mexico at all. The black void from his last memory of leaving his bunker for the night and waking up on the unforgiving ground with Mr. Jones smirking above him could have stretched anywhere from hours to days. 

Michael had paced around the small confines and had traced each crevice with his fingertips for some sign of give to attempt to dig himself out only to realize Jones had brought down the side of the mountain on him. Without access to his powers there was little hope of moving the rock debris on his own. The last time he had been dosed by Helena Ortecho, the effects had lasted for several days, including those frustrating moments when Jesse Manes had held a gun on Alex and then him at the Crashcon. Lucky for all of them that Gregory Manes had been there, and even more so for Maria’s quick thinking with the other bomb.

Luck took a faraway vacation from Michael after that night between getting unceremoniously dumped by Maria, to watching Alex move on easily with Forrest Long, to now. 

When the feeling of his old friend, hunger, began to gnaw at his stomach, he had some hope that the serum would wear off in time to save himself, but then slowly that hope faded from his body when the desire to eat grew quiet, sleeping inside with the burrow his missing powers had made in him.

He was trapped and the executioner’s axe, swinging down on him inescapable, was time. 

Thinking about time, like usual, sent Michael’s thoughts turning down the familiar roads in his mind and heart to Alex. At first, as he pillowed his head on his arms and stared up at the endless black of his prison, he had pretended there were stars above him and Alex was next to him. The rocky ground was just as unforgiving as the metal bed of his pickup truck. He was used to that fantasy, pretending Alex was there with him but just far enough away Michael couldn’t feel his breath or touch his skin. 

It had kept him going during those years when Alex was serving overseas under a whole different starlit sky. It had fueled him during the surprisingly harder times, when Alex was serving in the next state over, one timezone, two at most, but the separation was wider than the Atlantic Ocean under Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. It had kept him hopeful as well, waiting during the in-between times of those scarce visits on leave. And then finally, Alex was serving in Roswell, but by then it was Michael who was out of reach, pulled down so deep in grief and pain he couldn’t see a way forward at all, let alone picture Alex nearby in his mind's eye. 

Now he was out of time to wait and see if maybe the fates would be kind enough to grant them one more chance at being together. 

The screen on his phone went black during his too-long pause. That was happening more and more, thirst was not enough to keep his thoughts sharp and his mind on the task. He kept drifting off on tangents, and time slipped with them as he worked to find the words to say goodbye to Alex. The battery life of his cell phone was dying under every pause, goddamn it, he needed to focus.

“I didn’t have the words then, to tell you how bad things were that summer. You know the one. I know I was too much for you, for anyone, hell even for myself. But… I didn’t mean to do it though, to make you the only good thing in my life back then- that was too much to put on you, when you were just a kid too, trying to survive.” 

His skin was tight and dry, he couldn’t spare the moisture to cry, but his eyes burned with the need. “I blame myself, you know, for you leaving that first time to join up. Going to war. I know you what you said, about wanting to learn how to fight battles and win, but I’m not dumb, Alex. I know your dad catching us together was the real reason. You were trying to fly under his radar, to get out of the house and disappear to California or New York once you turned 18, and I ruined it. And I’m sorry-”

Another rib shaking cough seized Michael’s body, ripping through his throat like a wildfire, leaving ash in its wake as he tried to close his lips around it and hold it in uselessly. It was futile, trying to protect Alex, but he hoped that Alex would hear this goodbye, hear how slow and sleepy the words were and perhaps picture Michael’s death as being a peaceful slip into oblivion. Not the true state of affairs, that he was fighting for air as the walls of the mine seemed to creep closer and closer with every inhalation.

Like the rest of his previous attempts to protect Alex in his life, he was failing again.

 “So, that apology was twelve years overdue. It wasn’t your fault I was a mess back then. And, the shitty part is Alex, if I had to relive that summer again, I can’t promise I would do anything different… except, maybe I would have been there to say goodbye to you.” 

The bar on the phone was slipping closer to the critical red line. 

“Guess that’s what this is. This recording. My poor attempt to make amends and give you a proper goodbye. I don’t have enough room on my phone or battery life to apologize for everything I’ve done, and honestly, what good are apologies? They don’t change the past. I think we did the best we could at the time. It is just- I lied before when I said I used to think we’d end up together.”

That bittersweet morning of watching Alex walk away one last time had changed something inside of Michael though he didn’t know at the time. He had thought he could close the book on their sad story and move on, trying as hard as he had with Maria, only to have that same damn book hurled at his head after Crashcon by Maria when she had ended things. He had spent so much time holding his and Alex’s story open in his heart, that the book didn’t close anymore. The spine was cracked, the binding bent in all the places where they had loved each other and hurt each other, that it made it impossible to shelve again and move on. All it took was the softest breeze of memory; the cover would flip open, and then Michael was right back in the middle of their story again, knowing that he would love Alex forever. 

His thoughts were wandering again, bounding down hallways of melodrama. He almost laughed at the metaphor he had crafted for Alex; that their love was a roughly handled book. Forrest would appreciate it, being a researcher and lover of libraries. Forrest seemed to appreciate everything that Michael hadn’t. 

Michael forced his eyes open, struggling to make sense between the black that circled his vision and the black of the mine. “I tried to stop thinking about it, picturing it, you and me, making a life together. I might have succeeded for a little bit, probably long enough for you to think I got over you. But I didn’t. It never really took. So yeah. I really thought we were going to have more time together. Time to try again. Or like, really try for the first time. I was ready now, to be good to you.” His lips cracked as he smiled in thought, the taste of blood sharpening his attention. “I had these big future plans. I was just waiting for- for the right time.

“Now I’m out of time- fuck, is it cruel to tell you this? I don’t want to be cruel to you. I love you. So much. So, I’m sitting here in the dark, and I’m trying to think good thoughts. God, Alex, you’re every good thought in my head, and I was planning on showing that to you, if you still wanted me.”

If. Michael forced himself not to linger on that. It was a huge ‘if’, considering how happy Alex was at the moment with someone else. Amazing what sharing hobbies but not trauma could do for a relationship. Well, Michael could admit it, that he was selfish enough at this moment not to care. He had held all these thoughts inside for so long, their only company his lost opportunities and dead dreams about finding his family. If he was going to die here, so be it, he didn’t want to leave anything unsaid.

“Maybe you don’t, maybe all you have for me is love in the past tense and that’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve stood there before myself, when my tank was dead-empty, and I couldn’t trust that another go-around would take me anywhere but back to heartbreak. Just, if you could indulge me one last time? I want you to know how I saw us.”

His lips stung, the cut breaking open again as he uselessly tried to wet them one more time. Michael curled around his phone holding it close to his mouth, his head was too dizzy to hold up anymore, but he pushed on, this was the important part of his message. “So, the plan was this. It is the same plan I had when we were 17. We’ve both taken some detours, almost got lost even, but I think this was where we were heading. A house, a yard, kids. We were going to have it all. I was going to play the guitar, you would play the keyboard, our daughter would play the drums, our son the flute because fuck gender stereotypes, am I right? Of course, you would have to sing, my voice only sounds good when I’m backing you up.”

The battery hit the final red bar of warning. There was a splash on the phone screen. Carefully Michael brought it to his lips to lick the precious tear away for moisture. His body had surprised him one more time, with tears. 

“And yeah, that’s the gist. I would back you up on everything in our dad band, but you have to let me be the disciplinarian about homework, okay? Also, you don’t know this about me, but I make the best breakfasts ever. That was going to be what I led with by the way, if you were ever single again. I was going to make you breakfast and woo you. Every day for the rest of your life if you wanted. Whatever you wanted. I just want you to be happy… I love you.” 

He closed the recording, saving it as the phone shut down on the exhausted battery. It wasn’t perfect, his last message to Alex, but then, when had he ever managed to tell Alex everything and get it right? He never had, and would never get a chance again. Never. 

Michael tucked the phone into the pocket of his shirt, resting it over his heart and shut his eyes. He was aware that he was breathing harder, his lungs were looking for more non-existent oxygen in the closed off mine. Hopefully, he would slip into unconsciousness soon and feel the weight of grief that had taken up lodging in his chest sometime after the age of 7, finally check out. Evict that pain at last, and he could be free. 

It was the bitterest irony of his current imprisonment.  

***

continued on AO3 -

#malex #alex manes #michael guerin #hurt-comfort #getting back together #angst with a happy ending #for the first line meme #aewriting #sorry if this ends up in the tags twice #just found a privacy setting that was causing issues grrr

[0bianidalas]

The unsolicited AlexReggie ship manifesto

DISCLAIMER: This is obviously meant as a rant post about a ship I can enjoy in fandom spaces and not an actual request from me to make AlexReggie canon in the show or any of the sorts. I am quite happy and excited about the actual canon LGBT+ ship of this show, which is Willie x Alex. Do not get that twisted.

That being said, let me talk to you about the amazing, entertaining dynamic Alex and Reggie have that makes them super easy and fun to ship them:

I wanna start off by saying that I’m mostly writing this because I feel like they are either unfairly underlooked or just grossly misread; and I’m more upset about the latter. (Someone on this hellsite actually had the nerve to say Alex doesn’t take Reggie seriously so. I just had to get this off my chest)

So what’s this amazing, entertaining dynamic you speak of?

Alex and Reggie are best friends. That much is clear from the very first minutes of the show. It’s not Alex is Luke’s friend who’s friends with Reggie or the other way around. They’re all best friends. 

In fact, Alex and Reggie’s very first interaction is just about the sweatest we get to see them. Their first interaction:

Reggie goes over to Alex to compliment him specifically on how he played at the rehearsal which leads us to a lot of grey areas of headcanoning (was Alex the last to join and so he was shy or nervous around the others? Maybe Reggie just likes to compliment him for some reason, or my personal favorite: Reggie knew Alex was anxious about playing the Orpheum so he thought Alex needed reassurance of his awesomeness? ), but the matter is: Reggie thinks Alex is awesome. 

However, them being sweet best friends is not their entire dynamic (and thank God), no. Alex and Reggie are the quippy best friends, they’re the Vitriolic Best Buds (type one– with Reggie being more on the ‘unaware of the vitriol’ side): 

“A very good measure of how good your friends are is how much you can insult them without them taking offense.”— Heliomance

When two people who are the very best of friends behave like the very worst of enemies.

Alex pokes fun at Reggie saying “he can see you” when Carlos asks if the ghost is “hiddeous”. Reggie makes fun of Alex for crying and being “a very emotional person” (even when Alex isn’t even there). 

But at the end of the day, and this is where I wanna emphasize: they’re the ones to show care first and immidiately for each other. 

It’s stated that their friendship runs deep between all three of them (Luke, Alex and Reggie), but I’m not gonna write the manifesto for the OT3 yet so bear with me: 

In episode 1x02: when Alex complains about them not giving him a hug when he was crying in the “void”, Reggie goes to hug him without hesitation – for Alex to turn him down because, again, that’s their primary dynamic. 

Same episode, a few minutes later: Reggie gets overwhelmed about Ray crying and asks to see his parents and Alex turns to him and sotfly goes “Yeah”

In episode 1x07: when Alex is upset about Willie and Reggie gives him a reassuring comment about how there’ll be others which Alex takes greatfully and openly. 

Episode 1x09: after Alex has said goodbye to Willie and Reggie goes over his shoulder to ask him if he’s alright

Same episode, a few minutes later: when Reggie voices his concerns about what will happen to them if they cross over and Alex turns to him, again, his voice softer than it usually is when he speaks to Reggie, and tells him that “It’s not like we have a choice”, to ease him up a bit. 

What I mean to say with this is: Luke is, as I can read in the context of what we’ve seen in the first season, the least emotionally intelligent out of the three of them and so since Luke lacks in that department–> it means Alex and Reggie have each other. 

Again, they’re like – really best friends when you truly look. Mostly because Luke suffers from his trope of the front-man and main male protagonist, so he’s capable of going on his own or with Julie to explore other bonds while Alex and Reggie have less and lesser and a lot of that is spent with each other. 

Alex tells Reggie about Willie, Reggie pays attention and actually cares about the stuff he’s learning both from Alex as an extension of Willie and then about what he can get from the rest of the world. Alex and Reggie – most of the time during the season – are on the same page about stuff and together, while Luke is off doing his own things, mostly with Julie as she is the protagonist. 

Granted, Alex main focused relationship is with Willie (and I’m super greatful for that), but after Willie, and this is where I take no criticsm, it’s Reggie who comes on the list. Not Luke, not Julie or Carrie– Alex immidiate secondary focused-dynamic as of Season 1 is Reggie (if only slightly tied with the boys as a trio itself, obviously). 

Then there’s the aspect of them individually and how they contrast each other. Alex is obviously the smarter of the three and Reggie falls further on the scale, all the way to the side. That makes them a little the Smart Jerk, Nice Moron trope except Alex isn’t that much of a jerk all the time. However, it works, because not only it makes up for great comedic bits (literally all of their scenes together omg) but also because you can’t have one without the other or it’d be awfully unbalanced.

The “rhythm section” duo

Yes, I even wanna talk about the symbolism of their instruments too and how they’re linked through that. Drums and bass are not only essential to any band but they’re also very important and rely on each other. I’m no music expert at all, but even I know one usually follows after the other to keep the pace of the rhythm. 

This article has some many interesting takes on the relationship between the drummer and the bassist: 

“A drummer’s comprehension of the role of bass guitar is often far greater than most guitarists.”

“Everyone in the band is of course on the team, but the bond between the bassist and drummer is something so deep that it usually takes a long time to develop.”

“Bassists and drummers are the rhythm section together, meaning one instrument consisting of two parts.”

“Simply put, the bassist and drummer really are the rhythm section. It’s not the guitarist and certainly not the damn keyboard player. That can be an unclear distinction at times, but I feel strongly about it. Bass and drums should be an inseparable pair, sonically speaking,” he continues. “That’s not to say that all kick patterns should be followed to the tee, but there should be an obvious and palpable awareness of what each other is doing. There are too many nuances to list that can go with or against that grain. In short, bass and drums should always be intertwined like hot, sweaty lovers having the rawest, musical sex.”  —  Miles McPherson

I find the whole ✨semiotic✨ of this very poetic on its own, but it’s also an OT3 thing I’ll get on later, I think. 

Ultimately, Owen and Jeremy make it work, too. Duh. Their chemestry on screen really gives you the vibe that despite all the times Alex looks at Reggie like he’s fed up and wants to die all over again ("I wish I couldn’t see you”), Alex still finds him endearing and just…he loves the guy. And obviously Reggie – the heart of the boys trio– just loves him right back: 

I just think they’re cute and funny and even when I’m not shipping them, I’m still appreciating them from a mlm solidarity pov (bc Reggie is definitely bi) and whoever said that Alex doesn’t take Reggie seriously or ever tries to even imply Alex wouldn’t set the whole world on fire to keep Reggie warm is just not watching the same goddamn show.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #alex x reggie #reggie x alex #alex #reggie #yes it's almost 1 am and my head is FULL of ALEXREGGIE UNDERRATED SOULMATES #long post #meta #otp: come on reginald